Contagion
by Laura Picken
Summary: Continues the "Four Winds" series. The Guardians are in a race against time when a biological weapon threatens to destroy the city. Will one of them have to make the ultimate sacrifice? Mostly Esplanie, although everyone will be involved on the case side.
1. Chapter 1

**Four Winds: Contagion**  
A Castle Fantasy AU  
By Laura Picken

**A/N: I mean really, is anyone actually *surprised* that I posted this quickly? I will confess, though, that usually by the time I'm gearing up for the climactic battle scene in any Four Winds story (in this case, Moonrise Kingdom), I've already written 90% of the first chapter or two of the next story in my head. :D So if you're wondering how I'm moving on so fast (or if the action scenes feel at all rushed to you), well now ya know. ;) As for chapter 1, readers of my Sentinel fan fiction may find the name of a familiar O/C in this chapter. Yes, it's the *same* woman. That's all I'm going to say about that. :D  
**

This story is in the continuing series of Castle fan fiction based on my fantasy alternate universe story "Four Winds". If you want to read the story, click on my author page, otherwise, here's a quick summary: Castle, Beckett, Lanie, Esposito and Ryan are struck by ball lighting in the loft on a dark and stormy poker night and wind up with superpowers: Ryan's a powerful telepath, Esposito can get your entire life story by shaking your hand, Beckett has five super-heightened senses and can speak to the dead, Lanie can heal the living by touch, and Castle's a wizard. There's other scattered abilities here and there, but that's the basic gist of it. Not freaked out by the concept yet? Then read on and enjoy :-).

For very loose timeline purposes, Castle fans can place this somewhere in the post-"Always" future: Castle and Beckett are a firmly established couple, Beckett's back on the force and Ryan has fought his way out of the doghouse. Season five might make it into the canon of this series if I'm still writing it in September, but right now I make no promises.

DISCLAIMER: Castle, Beckett, et al. are property of Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC. The legends described herein are inventions of my own twisted imagination and should not be taken to reflect the traditions of any particular group. All non-English language phrases are courtesy of Google Translate, so please forgive me if I get anything unintentionally wrong.

Okay, enough business, let the adventure begin!

* * *

Lanie Parrish walked out of the elevator and headed toward the doors of the unassuming 'research company'. She looked around the lobby, wanting to ensure that there wasn't some doctor in a tiny private practice down the hall that was the address she was looking for. _No such luck. _The research company was the only company on the floor. Lanie passed through the double doors and stopped at the front desk. "Medical Examiner's office," she told the receptionist at the front desk. "I'm here about a Dr. Thomas Atwater?"

The receptionist nodded numbly. It was obvious she was having trouble processing the events of the day. "Follow me, please," she replied weakly to Lanie's request as she opened the security door behind them.

As they walked slowly through the eerily quiet cubicle setup, Lanie tried to ignore the feeling of dozens of eyes watching her. It was part of the job...a part of which she was well aware after having done it for so long. Most people, she knew, didn't have to deal with the death of someone they knew on an everyday basis. So her job was going to be one that was watched with a mix of fear and fascination by most people...and almost always at arm's length.

The receptionist stood by the open door to the lab, allowing Lanie to see where the late Dr. Atwater had collapsed. A yellow liquid puddled by his left hand, spilling out from a beaker the doctor clutched, even in death. Lanie noticed that the receptionist had not moved from her post. "Is it possible to prop this door open, somehow?" Lanie asked the woman. "My people may have to come in and out of this lab for a while, I'd hate to have to tear you away from your..."

"They've found someone to cover for me," the receptionist replied quietly.

"Ooookaay..." Lanie commented, quickly becoming oddly suspicious of her surroundings. "Ma'am, is there something in this lab that I need to be *worried* about? Are there hazardous materials my team needs to prepare for?"

The receptionist shook her head. "Not to my knowledge, ma'am."

"Not to your knowledge," Lanie mumbled, "now why don't I find that comforting?" She snapped on a pair of evidence gloves and bent down to start her initial examination of the body while the members of her team filed past the quiet receptionist.

It was the last thing about the death of Dr. Thomas Atwater that Lanie Parish was going to be able to remember that day.

* * *

The bullpen was eerily quiet. The writer/consultant and three detectives were sitting at their desks, slowly working through page after page of the paperwork that, to them, felt like it was never ending. Someone walking into the 12th precinct might have thought that perhaps the four people in that room didn't know each other, or they didn't like each other, or they were simply so focused on their jobs that they had no interest in passing the time in conversation.

Those outside observers would have no idea what was going on inside those four people's heads.

_Seriously? _Ryan had to resist the urge to shake his head in disbelief. _*That* was bones? That...thing you drew? Those were bones?_

_It's hard to draw something like that on a phone..._replied Beckett defensively. _That screen is so small..._

_Hey, if I could draw Tim Tebow on one knee in the end zone..._

Esposito *did* shake his head in disbelief at the conversation he was hearing in his mind. _I can't believe you guys are arguing about Draw Something in the middle of a police station..._

Ryan's smile was completely unapologetic. _And aren't you glad no one else can hear us?_

_Bro, I'm starting to wish *I* didn't have to hear you..._The buzz of Esposito's personal cell phone distracted him from the telepathic banter between Beckett and his partner. He answered the phone, "Hello..."

Esposito's face paled within seconds of answering the phone. He motioned for his four friends to join him as he quickly got the needed information from the other end of the line. "Thank you. I'll be right there." As soon as he hung up the phone, Esposito announced to the group, "That was the hospital. Lanie collapsed at a crime scene."

Ryan's eyes widened. "Collapsed?" They all knew that could pretty much mean only one thing where the medical examiner is concerned. "Did she...?"

"Can't tell, bro...but it would be my first guess," replied Esposito. "Let's go."

* * *

Esposito barreled into the hospital like a man on a mission. The nurses seemed to be expecting them, though, and handed each of the Guardians passes without a word. The four Guardians ran through the halls until they found Lanie, who, to their surprise, had already been admitted and moved to a private room. But it was a complete shock to them, though, when they realized *who* had taken care of their friend in their absence. "Perlmutter?" exclaimed Esposito. "*You're* treating Lanie?"

Dr. Sidney Perlmutter nodded. "I got the call when Lanie...collapsed on the scene. She named me as her personal physician a few months back for some reason, so when I found out they admitted her, I had her transferred to a private room and gave the front desk your names as her family."

Esposito was genuinely touched by Perlmutter's gestures on their behalf. "Thanks, Perlmutter."

Perlmutter waved off the gratitude. "Lanie would do the same for me."

"How is she, Perlmutter?" asked Ryan.

The doctor scratched the back of his head and looked up as if he was cursing the sky itself. "I wish I knew, detective. I really do. From what the techs told me, she just knelt down, touched the body and froze. She's been unresponsive ever since. I've had them run some tests on her, but so far I'm at a complete loss as to what's going on here."

A knowing look passed between Ryan and Esposito. "Can we...can we see her?" asked Esposito.

"Of course," Perlmutter replied sympathetically.

The two men ran in immediately, pulling up chairs and taking positions at Lanie's side with a speed that left Perlmutter confused. Ryan quickly connected with his partner's mind before diving into the mind of the lost healer.

_Lanie...Lanie, it's Ryan. Javi's here, too. Lanie, say something, let us know you're all right..._

_Ugh, _groaned Lanie into the mind-link, _I would...if you'd let me...dang, boy, why do your thoughts have to be so...chatty..._

Ryan and Esposito's voices both chuckled through the mind-link at Lanie's response. _That's my girl, _thought Esposito.

_And why all the concern? _thought Lanie.

_Uh, baby, _replied Esposito, _what's the last thing you remember?_

_I was at a crime scene, I knelt down to start examining the body..._Lanie's mind voice became tinged with disbelief. _No way..._

_Sorry, chica, _replied Esposito.

_We're at the hospital with you now, _added Ryan.

Ryan and Esposito listened as Lanie thought through what had happened to her. _But...that shouldn't be possible...I can't examine the dead...unless..._Lanie's mind voice suddenly took on a note of panic. _Oh, God..._

Lanie regained consciousness with a rush, taking deep breaths of air as she sat up in the hospital bed with a start. The first name she yelled out was not a name anybody sitting next to her was expecting. "Sid!"

Perlmutter jumped to action from his post outside the door. "Lanie!" he exclaimed in surprise, "You're awake! But how...?"

Lanie cut him off quickly. "No time for that now, Sid. The crime scene I was at when I collapsed, that was Dr. Thomas Atwater?" When Perlmutter nodded, Lanie started quickly spitting out orders. "That body needs to be quarantined *immediately*. You also need to run full blood work ups on me and anyone who was at the crime scene. Probably should order the tests for these guys and for you and anyone who treated me, too, just to be on the safe side."

Perlmutter's eyes widened as the scope of the tests Lanie was asking for hit him full force. "Lanie...?"

"I think that body's infected with something, Sid," Lanie replied with somber urgency. "That's why I collapsed at the scene."

* * *

It was less than twenty minutes later when Dr. Sidney Perlmutter knocked on the hospital room door of his co-worker and friend. Five heads looked up at him as he spoke. "Lanie, I made the calls you asked for. The body's quarantined and the team are all here getting their workups. We should know pretty quickly if there's anything dangerous going on."

Lanie let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Sid. I knew I could count on you."

"Actually, about that..."

Lanie found her relief somewhat short-lived. "What is it?"

Perlmutter closed the door to Lanie's room before continuing. "Lanie, I ordered a full blood workup for you when you were first brought in. So because your tests were ordered first, I've gotten your results back already."

With no seats left in the room, Perlmutter sat at the foot of Lanie's bed. "The good news is you're clean. Which means your friends should be negative, so unless one of them gets sick in the next couple of days, I'm inclined not to worry just yet."

Four people in the room sighed with relief, but the fifth one in the hospital bed knew her friend better than that. "What's the *bad* news?" asked Lanie.

Perlmutter looked down at the test results he was holding in disbelief. "To be honest, Lanie, I'm surprised you're not already *dead*. These results I've got here...I had the tech put a rush on them, then I made the poor guy verify his findings three times. Your white blood cell count is off the charts, your red blood cells have a composition I've only seen in the charts of Olympic athletes caught doing some serious doping, and there's this...electron response..."

He thought he was going to see panic in the eyes of his friend. Or at least some level of fear. He *thought* she would have at least demanded to see the test results herself. So the peace and acceptance Perlmutter saw on the face of his patient threw him for a *complete* loop. "Lanie, you can't tell me you already *knew* about this?!"

"I had my suspicions," Lanie replied simply.

Perlmutter studied his friend's face in disbelief. "That's why you named me your doctor a couple of months ago, isn't it? And why you made *me*, of all people, your primary emergency contact?"

Lanie nodded. "I needed to know my medical file would be in the hands of someone I trusted with my life, if it ever came to...well, this."

Perlmutter took a long look at the other faces around the room. _It's like they *all* know something I don't..._The doctor thought carefully about his dealings with the 12th precinct and whether or not he really *wanted* to know what was going on between them. Then he looked back at his friend in the hospital bed and sighed. Because she was entrusting him with her *life*, he had to know. Whether he wanted to or not. "Okay, Lanie. Let's start from the beginning..."

* * *

_**The next day**__**...**_

"Director McPherson?"

Homeland Security Director Diane McPherson didn't bother to look up from the photographs she was examining, engrossed as she was in the task. "Yes, Maria?" she asked her executive assistant. "What is it?"

"Agent Fallon is here to see you as requested, ma'am."

The mention of the man she had scheduled her next appointment with was the only thing that tore Diane's eyes away from the photographs. She looked directly into Maria's eyes as she told her, "send him in."

Maria nodded curtly. "Yes, ma'am." A minute later, Maria opened the door and stood by it as a tall, dark-haired man entered the room and stood at attention in front of the desk. "You asked to see me, Director?" asked Agent Fallon.

Diane nodded. "Yes, I did." She then remembered there was a third person in the room waiting for instructions. Looking out to the door, Diane quietly said, "thank you, Maria," and returned her attention immediately to the agent whose assistance she had requested. She returned to her seat behind the desk as the door closed in front of her with a soft click. Diane then pulled a case file out of the top drawer of her desk and spread out the contents in front of her. "Agent Fallon? I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before now, have we?"

Fallon shook his head. "No ma'am."

"Please," Diane requested of the man still standing before her, "have a seat." As Fallon sat down, Diane asked him, "the last time you were in New York was approximately three years ago, correct? When you helped stop that dirty bomb?"

"Yes ma'am," Fallon nodded.

Diane shuffled the papers in the file around until she found the report she was looking for. "You worked...with the 12th precinct during that investigation, is that correct?"

"I did..." Fallon agreed.

_No sense beating around the bush any further, _thought Diane. She took a case file off her desk and handed it to the agent seated in front of her. "I need you to go to New York. A defense department contractor, Dr. Thomas Atwater, has died, and the Medical Examiner's office is in New York has ruled the case a homicide. I want you to go up there and assist the investigation, get them whatever help they might need on a federal level."

Fallon raised a suspicious eyebrow. _I wouldn't be getting this case straight out of the director's office if it were that simple..._"That's not the *only* reason I'm going up there, though, is it?"

Diane shook her head. "No. There are three other forces at play here: one, Dr. Atwater may have died from what looks to be a biological weapon. I want boots on the ground the second that a terrorist threat is ascertained."

"Understood, ma'am," Fallon acknowledged the direct order, "but why *me*?"

"The case is being handled by the same team that you worked with during the dirty bomb case: NYPD 12th precinct homicide. Given your past history with them, I'm hoping that we won't have to deal with the initial round of territorial animosity that usually happens in these cases."

Fallon nodded in agreement. "Sounds wise. So what's the third thing?"

Diane reached underneath the dirty bomb case folder for the three photographs she had been studying most of the morning. She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly in an attempt to focus her thoughts. "Agent Fallon, what I'm going to tell you will be extremely hard to believe. If I didn't have the photographs in front of me I wouldn't have believed it myself. These are three images taken by a Canadian satellite on the same day several months ago. The first shows midtown Manhattan on a typical Friday, about mid-morning." She handed Fallon the first photograph as she prepared him for the next one. "This photo was taken roughly four hours later."

Fallon stared at the second photograph in open-mouthed shock. The satellite clearly showed massive quantities of smoke billowing from what looked to be a third of the Manhattan skyline. That would have been catastrophic enough on its own, but when you added..."Are those *dragons*, Director?"

Diane nodded. "That's what I believe them to be, anyway. But Agent Fallon, here's the kicker. This photograph was verified to have been taken just two hours after the second one."

Fallon found himself blinking repeatedly, not believing the evidence before his eyes as he examined the third photograph. "It looks exactly like the first photograph. Not a speck of visible damage." He looked at the three photographs again in sequence. "Director, you're *sure* these haven't been altered in any way?"

"Yes," Diane nodded again, "I've had it confirmed by at least a dozen experts. And agents on the ground that day remember seeing smoke coming from midtown at that time, but not being able to pinpoint *any* source when they went to investigate. A few witnesses did testify to seeing...something resembling the dragons, believe it or not...but as far as I can tell, these three photographs are the *only* evidence of what happened that day. Agent Fallon, the department is not *officially* investigating this incident. I simply cannot allocate department resources to chase down what might simply be a really good Photoshop job. But since you're going to be in the neighborhood anyway, I'm *asking* you to...keep your eyes and ears open, shall we say? If you can find out what really happened that day, I'd like to know about it."

Fallon flipped absentmindedly through the three photos, stunned every time he stopped at the second one. If the photo was doctored, someone did a damn good job of it. But if it was real..."If I find *anything*, ma'am, I promise I will let you know."


	2. Chapter 2

"You four, my office."

The Guardians filed obediently into Gates' office, Castle grumbling under his breath about how often this was becoming a regular occurrence at the start of their day. Gates, wisely, ignored him, choosing instead to speak to the group. "First of all, I heard about yesterday. How is Dr. Parish doing?"

"Fine," replied Esposito. "Dr. Perlmutter kept her overnight for observation, but he's signing her discharge this morning, She'll be back at work this afternoon."

"That's an awfully quick turnaround. Might I ask what happened?"

Ryan took over the explanations. "All of our abilities have a downside, sir. Lanie's is that she can get lost in a healing trance if she's not in total control over it. When that happens I have to pull her out of it."

Gates frowned in confusion. "How did she get pulled into a trance when examining a body? Clearly this is not a common occurrence...or is it?"

"No, sir, this is only the third time it's ever happened," replied Ryan. "Lanie's theory is that she got pulled into a living infection within the body of Dr. Atwater. The minute she woke up she was pushing Dr. Perlmutter to quarantine the body and get everyone tested."

Gates' eyes widened in surprise. "Tested? For what?"

Beckett picked up the explanation from there. "To be honest, sir, we don't know yet. Dr. Perlmutter is still running tests, although he says Lanie's clean for now, and by extension we are as well."

Esposito added, "But, so far three members of the forensic team that worked the scene called in sick this morning, so there is something there, we just don't know what it is yet."

"Okay then," said Gates, taking charge of the discussion, "Under the circumstances I've had this investigation transferred to Beckett, so she'll take point on this one. Although, since I have a feeling wild horses couldn't keep Esposito from this investigation, you and Ryan will assist. Let me know if you have any investigations you'd like someone else to take over to free you up for this."

"Yes, sir," the three detectives responded.

"Let's get this wrapped up quickly, okay people?" declared Gates. "I don't want us to start wasting time and resources only to find out this guy died of walking pneumonia..."

* * *

"Well, that's it," Perlmutter hung up the phone with a weary sigh. "Every member of the forensics team that handled the Atwater call yesterday has called in sick."

"Except for me," countered Lanie.

Perlmutter couldn't help but chuckle in response. "And technically *you* just got out of the hospital..."

"Well, that's true," replied Lanie with a wry smile. "But why aren't I *sick*?"

Perlmutter turned to look his friend in the eye. "Lanie, from what I saw in those blood tests yesterday, your immune system could probably fend off the *ebola* virus, for chrissake. Your friends, too." He shook his head in amazement for what felt like the hundredth time. "Incredible...just incredible..."

"Yeah," Lanie blushed, "Well none of that's going to do us a darn bit of good if we can't figure out what killed Thomas Atwater."

"Agreed," said Perlmutter, turning his attention back to the blood culture he took from the body. When he realized what the results were telling him, though, all optimism left him. "Lanie," he called his friend over to his workstation, "can you come over here and confirm that what I'm seeing I'm *actually* seeing?"

Lanie crossed the lab to her friend's workstation. Her face fell as she realized what the test results meant. "It's Anthax, isn't it?"

Perlmutter nodded sadly. "I think so, Lanie. I think so."

* * *

"Yeah," nodded Beckett, "thanks, Lanie." The senior detective hung up the phone and turned her attention toward her partner across the desk. "Lanie and Perlmutter found a cause of death. Anthrax."

"God," gasped Castle. "Are they *sure*?" Beckett nodded. "So it's definitely a homicide?"

"Which means we can get to work," declared Beckett. She pushed her chair away from her desk, stood up and grabbed her coat to leave. "C'mon Castle, we need to find out more about where Dr. Atwater has been lately. Ryan? Esposito? Where are we on next of kin?"

"He was single, no family in the area. Parents live in Florida, they're flying in today," replied Esposito.

Beckett ordered the team, "Make sure to get with the parents when they get here, maybe Dr. Atwater told mom and dad about whatever personal life he had."

"You got it," said Esposito.

* * *

"So this is where Dr. Atwater worked?" Castle commented. "Pretty unassuming place. Hey! Maybe it's one of those places that's just a front, and inside there's some secret elevator to an underground spy headquarters..."

Beckett rolled her eyes as she passed through the door Castle held open for her. "Somehow I doubt that, Castle." She quickly crossed the small lobby area to stop at the front desk.

The receptionist held up a hand to stop Beckett before she could speak. "Bernham, Atwater and Associates, please hold." After putting the person on hold the receptionist looked up at Beckett and Castle. "How can I help you, Ms..."

"*Detective* Kate Beckett, NYPD. This is Richard Castle. We're investigating the death of Dr. Thomas Atwater."

The receptionist frowned. "I thought Dr. Atwater died of natural causes?"

"It's a little early to determine that," Beckett responded, dodging the question. "Is there someone here we can talk to about Dr. Atwater's work?"

"Mr. Bernham is in the office today, I'll see if he's able to see you," the receptionist replied. She picked up the phone, redirected the callers she had placed on hold, then called the extension she was looking for. "Mr. Bernham? The NYPD is here about Dr. Atwater. They have some questions." After a tense moment, the receptionist ended the call with a quick "yes, sir," before hanging up the phone. She got up, announcing to the Guardians to "follow me, please," before punching in the code to the security door behind her.

Beckett and Castle followed the receptionist through a mass of cubicle spaces to a spacious corner office. It spoke of a man of power and great influence, and the man behind that desk seemed to carry an air that matched the office. He crossed the office with a grace that belied his advancing years as he greeted his guests at the door. "Good morning. I'm Richard Bernham. And you are...?"

"Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD," Beckett replied as she shook the older man's hand. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Bernham."

"Yes, yes," Bernham responded with a sad shake of his head. "Thomas' death is a loss the scientific community will be grieving for many years to come."

Castle asked, "Was he your partner here?"

Bernham shook his head. "No. His father and I were business partners until last year when the old man retired down to Florida. I asked Thomas if he wanted to take over for his dad, but he turned me down flat, telling me he didn't want to be bogged down with the minutiae of running a business. Please, come in."

As Beckett and Castle took seats in front of Bernham's desk, Beckett asked the older man, "Mr. Bernham, what was Dr. Atwater working on when he died?"

Bernham's answer held the smugness of a man who loved to withhold information. "I'm afraid that's classified, detective."

"So you were working on something for the government?" asked Castle.

"We have done work for the DoD on occasion," replied Bernham. His smugness was quickly replaced with a nervous level of curiosity. "What's this about, detective? When Thomas collapsed yesterday, I just figured he died of a heart attack."

Beckett hesitated for just a moment before giving the man a direct answer. "The medical examiner has concluded that Dr. Atwater died from pulmonary anthrax."

Bernham spat out a round of furious curses before calming himself just long enough to speak, picking up his phone. An inter-office intercom system squealed to life. "Attention all employees: we have been notified of a bio agent code red situation. All employees are ordered to start taking their allotted Cipro immediately. Supervisors, please let me know as soon as possible if any employees have called in sick or if there are any issues with the Cipro supply. Thank you."

Beckett spoke up as Bernham put down the receiver, "You seem awfully well prepared for the news that one of your employees has died from anthrax, Mr. Bernham."

Bernham didn't miss a beat. "As I mentioned earlier, detective, we've done quite a bit of work for the government. And after those letter attacks, we thought it prudent to have a plan in place. At least...Thomas did. He wrote up the protocol himself back in 2002."

"All the more reason why we need to find out what Dr. Atwater was doing that may have put him in contact with the disease..." countered Beckett.

"Well, he wasn't shearing sheep, detective, I can tell you at least that much," Bernham replied with a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry, but without the proper approvals..."

A new voice to the conversation piped up by the doorway. "You'll have them."

While Beckett and Castle recognized the man at the office door immediately, Bernham did not. "I'm sorry, and you are...?"

The man at the door flashed a badge as he entered. "Agent Mark Fallon, Homeland Security. I'm here on behalf of the director." As he closed the door, Fallon continued, "Mr. Bernham, you have my assurance that anything we discuss will not leave this room unless it's directly related to this investigation. If you have more concerns than that, the director has assured me she will freely give any approvals you might need. Now, did I hear what I think I just heard? *Did* Dr. Atwater die from anthrax?"

The other three members of the conversation all nodded, giving Bernham a bit of time to gather his thoughts. "You'd better be right about the director giving me approval to talk about this, Agent Fallon. This was *her* project."

Bernham continued to hesitate. He was clearly nervous. Fallon nudged the man gently. "Please, go on, Mr. Bernham."

Seeing that the three people in front of him had no intention of disappearing before they got the information they were looking for, Bernham finally spoke. "About a year ago, the CIA was hearing chatter that the Iranians were developing a strain of highly contagious, antibiotic-resistant anthrax. The director contracted us to 'investigate' if such a virus could be developed, and to create a treatment for it if it 'could' be developed."

Fallon was used to this level of government double-talk. "And this virus? 'Could' it be developed?"

Bernham nodded. "But whether or not this virus is the one that killed Dr. Atwater is something that I have no current way of knowing."

"Could we have a sample of this virus? Something for the Medical Examiner to compare it to?" asked Fallon.

Bernham looked at Fallon like he had three heads. "I'm sorry, but there's absolutely no way I can allow that. It's far too dangerous. I'll allow a Homeland Security scientist to come in and work with the samples as part of the investigation, but that's the best I can do, I'm sorry."

"That's quite all right," Fallon backed down quickly. "We can get someone in here to take a look at the sample."

Bernham seemed relieved. "Thank you, Agent Fallon," he told him.

"Do you believe this could have been an accident? That he might have infected himself with the virus?" asked Castle.

Bernham sighed wearily. "I know that nothing in science should be considered an absolute, but Thomas was *obsessive* about his methodology, *especially* when it came to infection control. The chances of him infecting himself, in my opinion, are almost none."

"What about security?" asked Beckett.

Bernham looked to Fallon for approval before answering the question. "We have security footage from the past month and the lab can only be entered with a coded ID card. Those records are kept going back three years."

"Can we get the records and footage for the past month?" asked Beckett.

After getting another nod of approval from Fallon, Bernham nodded.

Beckett took one more look at her 'team' to see if anyone had any more questions. When no one spoke up, Beckett concluded the interview by handing Bernham a business. "Thank you for talking with us, Mr. Bernham, you've been very helpful..."

Bernham got up and shook the hands of the three people in his office. "Glad we could be of service. We'll have the security information sent to your office by the end of business today."

* * *

It wasn't long after they got into the elevator before Beckett turned on her new 'partner'. "Okay Fallon, what the hell are you doing here?"

Fallon tried to act casual. "Good to see you, too, Detective Beckett..."

"Answer the question," pushed Beckett.

"Exactly what I told Bernham, Detective. I'm here at the request of the Director of Homeland Security to assist you in this investigation. She sent *me* specifically because we've worked together before. It's *your* show, Detective. I'm just here to plow the road."

Castle was understandably cautious. "So you're not here to take over this case?"

Fallon shook his head. "The only thing that ties this to Homeland Security right now is the company's work with the DoD...and now, apparently, the director. And after the letters case in '01 we're *particularly* careful about when we step in with anthrax cases. Plus, if there's one thing I learned from the last time we worked together, it's to trust your hunches and keep an open mind. So where do we go from here?"

Beckett watched Fallon with a hefty degree of skepticism. While she knew he believed every word he said, previous experience told her his 'helpfulness' could change on a dime. "Ryan and Esposito should be interviewing the parents at the precinct by now. We should see if they have any idea about their son's recent personal life."

* * *

**Comments welcome! Although I know it's mostly just advancing the case (so far). This was only the second time in the run of the series where a scene demanded to be written out of sequence and held for the right time to use it (and wouldn't let me write anything else until I got it out of my system). The first was Gates learning about the Guardians, which ended up getting used in Edge of Heaven. Today it was a scene with Agent Fallon...let's just say it will *not* be used before Ascension. Anyway, that was nine pages of non-stop muse pushed writing, which left me churning basic case advancement over here. I promise things will get more fun next chapter. =)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

It was always the hardest thing about a murder investigation: talking to the next of kin. For them, everything has changed, and no amount of justice will ever bring the person back. Whether it was a spouse, child, brother or sister, you were dealing with someone who had just had a giant hole ripped into their lives, and the pain in the air was palpable.

The worst, though...the absolute worst was dealing with parents who were coming to grips with the fact that they were going to have to make arrangements to bury their child. Ryan once tried to use his abilities to comfort a set of parents who had come home to find their teenage daughter had been stabbed repeatedly. It felt like he was pouring all of his energy into a black hole.

So Ryan simply pushed the box of tissues across the table, trying to give the only comfort he could give to Douglas and MaryAnn Atwater. "When's the last time you spoke to your son, Mrs. Atwater?" he asked.

"Last week," MaryAnn replied. "He's called every Sunday night since we moved to Florida. 'It's no replacement for your lasagna,' he'd tell me, 'but at least we can still talk...'"

MaryAnn choked off a sob, and Douglas squeezed his wife's hand in a show of support. "Thomas was a good son," Douglas added. "He came over for dinner every Sunday night. We'd talk about what was going on in the world, what was going on at the lab...even after we retired, he still wanted to share his life with us. I was always grateful for that..."

"How much did he tell you about his work, Dr. Atwater?" asked Esposito.

"We used to work together," Douglas replied. "so I was able to bring a fresh perspective to whatever he was working on...even more so after I left the business and wasn't mired in the day-to-day."

Esposito asked, "What was your son working on when you last talked to him, sir?"

Douglas shook his head. "Sorry, gentlemen. That's classified."

The two detectives sighed, annoyed as they always were when they couldn't get an answer to a question. Ryan switched conversational gears right away. "Did Thomas have anything in his life *besides* his work? A girlfriend, perhaps?"

Both parents shared a sad smile. MaryAnn was the one to speak. "Detective, my son inherited my husband's workaholic gene. Work was the *only* thing in his life besides us..."

"Well, then, what about his co-workers?" asked Esposito. "Was there anyone at work who your son was having problems with?"

"Almost everyone," Douglas spat out bitterly. "At least, the way *he* saw it. First it was because he was the boss' kid..."

"You ran the lab?" asked Ryan.

"I did," replied Douglas, "for twenty-five years."

"Did Thomas take over after you retired?" asked Esposito.

Douglas shook his head. "And that was another reason his co-workers resented him. He turned down the job because he preferred research over people; he always did. But my partner Richard never hired anyone to take my place. So the way you'd hear Thomas tell it, he was damned if he did, and he was damned because he didn't."

Ryan noticed the tiniest hint of a smile cross his partner's face; it was an expression he recognized every time Javier got what he considered to be a good idea. Esposito stood up, essentially signaling that the interview was winding down. "Well, thank you for coming in, Dr. Atwater, Mrs. Atwater," he told both of them. He handed MaryAnn a business card. "If you can think of anything that might be helpful to our investigation, please give us a call." Then, Esposito gave Dr. Atwater's hand a firm sympathetic shake. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

The Atwaters thought nothing of the gesture; Dr. Atwater simply returned the handshake with a sad nod of his head as they left the precinct. Ryan, though, understood immediately what his partner had just done. _Javi?_ he projected through their mind-link, _Did you just download Dr. Atwater's memories?_

Esposito gave a brief nod. _I figured being able to work as a passable microbiologist might come in handy since Thomas Atwater's life and potential enemies all seem to be connected to his job..._

It was logic that Ryan found impossible to argue with. As Esposito walked the Atwaters to the elevator, Ryan walked back to Beckett's and Castle's desks to update his boss. The third person hovering around his fellow Guardian's desks, though, left Ryan curious and concerned. _Agent Fallon? _he projected through the mind-link, _What the hell's he doing here?_

_Behave, _Beckett warned him. Out loud, Beckett introduced Fallon with an explanation that smacked of warning. "Ryan, I'm sure you remember Agent Fallon. He's here to assist us with the Atwater case."

The wording of Beckett's introduction was not lost on Ryan. His eyes never leaving the DHS agent, Ryan asked skeptically, "Assist? You mean he's not here to take over?"

"No," replied Fallon firmly. "Dr. Atwater's worked with both the DoD and DHS, and his work was highly classified..."

"Yeah," agreed Ryan, "we couldn't get anything out of Atwater's dad about it, even though Thomas used to work for him."

Fallon countered quickly. "Atwater's work, unfortunately, seems to have been directly related to the cause of his death."

"So he was working with anthrax?" asked Ryan.

Fallon nodded. "I'm here to advise you guys and clear away any roadblocks. By order of the Director I can't take over unless there's a clear and present danger. I'm just here to help."

_Great, _Ryan commented through the mind-link, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

Beckett ignored the thoughts running through her mind, focusing instead on the case. "How did the interview go with the parents?"

"Not terribly helpful," replied Ryan. "The younger Atwater, apparently, was a complete workaholic with no social life or social skills. He seemed to think that everyone at work was against him."

"Yeah, that fits with what we learned from his boss," mused Beckett.

"But you know what they say," Castle commented, "you're not paranoid if everyone is really out to get you."

Beckett started to copy down the information they had on the murder board. "So if Thomas Atwater picked up any enemies, he likely got them on the job..." she mused.

_Esposito did get a good 'handshake' out of Atwater's dad, _Ryan projected through the group mind-link, understanding that the other Guardians knew exactly what that meant.

_Hopefully that's not information we'll need to use, _countered Beckett. Out loud, she told the group, "The one advantage we have to investigating a place this secure is that we have a pretty good record of the comings and goings from Atwater's lab over the past month. The logs and security footage from the past month are *supposed* to be getting here some time today."

As if on cue, Esposito arrived at the same time as a messenger. "Delivery for a Mark...Fallon?" the messenger announced.

Surprised by the name, Esposito looked toward the murder board and had to stifle a groan. _Oh, *great*, _Esposito sent down the mind-link. _What's *he* doing here?_

Ryan sent back his memories of their conversation to that point. Not buying the 'I'm just here to help' line for a minute, Esposito went to the one way he knew to get as close to the absolute truth as possible. Once Fallon signed for the package and set it down, Esposito went in for a pleasant, business-like handshake. "Agent Fallon?" the detective said when he finally spoke aloud. "Can't say it's good to see you again."

"I understand the feeling," Fallon responded in kind, returning the handshake.

As Fallon opened the package from the research labs, Esposito looked through the agent's memories to see what he was *really* doing in New York. He didn't have to look far. Esposito let the sorting and distribution of the security DVDs and log pages cover for his mind-link alert to his friends. _Uh, guys, _he projected, _we're going to need to be *extra* careful around Agent Fallon..._

_Yeah, no kidding, _Beckett responded, her mind-voice dripping sarcasm.

Esposito cut Beckett off with intense urgency. _I'm serious, guys. _He flashed the memory of the dragons' satellite photo into everyone's minds. _He doesn't realize it yet, but Fallon's boss sent him here to find *us*._

* * *

They split up the logs and security footage by weeks, giving everyone an even amount of the dull, boring, monotonous work to do. They all knew, though, that this was where the case could break open; if someone was intent on killing the scientist with his own weapon, *this* was the work that was going to point the group in that person's direction.

Ryan pulled the records for the last week of Thomas Atwater's life, and because that week is when Atwater was most likely to have been infected, Ryan was the first one to get a crack at the DVD player. The rest looked through page after page of security logs, taking careful notes every time someone was buzzed in or out of Atwater's lab, including Thomas Atwater.

Finally, on the last of his share of DVDs, he found it. Their first real lead. _Guys..._Ryan projected down the mind-link before remembering that he couldn't connect to *everyone* he needed to..."Guys, I think I've found something."

The group crowded around the television as Ryan rewound to the right spot in the footage. "The time stamp says this was 10:06 pm last Sunday night," announced Ryan.

The detective pressed play, and the group watched as Thomas Atwater entered the room, pulling a busty blonde with hair teased to the sky; her too-tight miniskirt and 4-inch heels clearly making it difficult to walk even the few steps she took on camera. Thomas hoisted her up onto one of the lab tables, the woman wrapped her legs around him, pulling them together in a dance of lips, tongues, hands..."Does this look like a socially inept workaholic to you?" asked Ryan.

"Yep, he does..." teased Castle quickly before his tone turned serious. "But *her*, on the other hand..."

"Whoever she is, we need to find her," declared Beckett.


	4. Chapter 4

"The good thing is that there weren't a whole lot of people in the building at ten o'clock on a Sunday night," said Ryan. He checked his security logs for the blond's name. "If the logs are accurate, then the girl on the tape is named...Tara McNeil."

Everyone in the room seemed to recognize the name immediately. Going back over their logs, it became clear that the footage Ryan found could not be considered a one night fling. "It appears our nerdy Dr. Atwater had some game after all," commented Esposito.

"Yeah, or Tara did," Beckett countered, watching the tape carefully as it ran. "Watch what happens when Atwater leaves the room." The group sat back and watched as Tara hopped off the table the second the door to the lab closed. The woman wasn't aimlessly walking around the lab, nor was she just getting up to 'stretch her legs'. She was looking for something. It was obvious to anyone watching the tape. Tara was careful in her search; closing each drawer after she looked inside, putting moved objects back exactly where she found them. And when Atwater returned, Tara slid across the lab table with an easy speed that showed great experience with the maneuver.

"So we know she was looking for something..." commented Castle.

Fallon picked up on the thought immediately. "And under the circumstances it's not a stretch to say she was probably looking for the anthrax spores."

Beckett went to her laptop, hoping to get lucky and find out that there was only one Tara McNeil in all of New York City. She came up disappointed. "There are no Tara McNeils in the DMV database."

"Let's get a good screen shot of her face," ordered Fallon. "I can get it run through the facial recognition databases tonight. Hopefully by tomorrow morning we'll have an ID."

Ryan gave a quick glance to Detective Beckett, who nodded in approval.

* * *

Lanie stood over her pot of marinara sauce, trying to determine if she needed to add anything else to it. Cooking, for her, was therapeutic. It was a great way to wind down after a long day. She got to feel like she was creating something instead of breaking something apart like she did during an autopsy. And the end result was a great meal and the opportunity to feel good about taking care of herself. But then, there was always...

"Ugh, chica," Lanie heard the voice say over her shoulder, "why do you have to make something that smells *so good* and then looks...like that? Don't you get enough blood in a day?"

Lanie smiled as she stirred the sauce, then grabbed a separate spoon to taste it, deciding the sauce was finished just as the pasta was ready. "Baby, I have never heard you complain about my cooking *once*. Now are you going to move, or am I going to drain this pasta all over your jeans?"

Javier backed away quickly from his girlfriend with a chuckle, allowing Lanie to pour the boiling water through the colander and into the sink behind her.

"The table's set," Lanie replied after setting down the hot metal of the pasta pot. "Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes. Hey, how's that Atwater case going?" Javier's face darkened for a split second...a response which aggravated Lanie to no end. "Javi, baby...stop it. There's no way *either* of us could have predicted what happened yesterday."

"I know," Javier agreed, his voice dripping with guilt, "but..."

Lanie cut off that train of thought quickly. "No buts! Now open the wine and grab the salad."

Javier did as he was told, allowing Lanie the room to toss the pasta with the sauce and grab the garlic bread. "So?" Lanie asked, repeating her earlier question. "How's the *case* going?"

"Slowly," Javier replied with a weary sigh. "Atwater worked with the DoD and DHS doing research on a strain of antibiotic-resistant anthrax."

Lanie's eyes widened. "But if you can't treat it with antibiotics..."

"Then there's no cure?" responded Javier. "Yeah, I know. But that's not the only headache this leaves us with. Fallon's back."

"Jesus," exclaimed Lanie. "Fallon's here, but the Feds *aren't* running the show?"

Javier swirled the wine absently in his glass before chugging half of it down. "Yeah. He *says* he's just here to assist us in getting this case solved."

Lanie recognized Javier's tone of voice immediately. "But you know better, I take it?"

Javier nodded. "The Director got some...photos from a Canadian spy satellite. Midtown. On the day we fought those damn dragons."

"What?!" exclaimed Lanie. "I thought Castle's spell..."

"Apparently Castle's spell doesn't reach into space," countered Javier. "The photos don't show any of *us*, thank God, but they show the three dragons clearly. Part of the reason Fallon's been sent down here is to investigate."

Lanie cursed their rotten luck. "So you guys have to close *this* case clean, of *all* cases, all the while wondering when Homeland Security robo-agent Fallon is going to step in and take over? Man, I'm glad I just work with the bodies..."

"Yeah, how'd today go?" asked Javier, desperate to get away from anything and everything to do with Agent Fallon.

"Perlmutter's still in shock, I think," replied Lanie with a chuckle. "From what he saw in my bloodwork, though, he thinks we should be immune to pretty much everything."

"Everything, huh?" asked Javier. "Don't let Gates know. I'd kinda like to keep my sick days..."

Lanie let out a chuckle at that. "Yeah, I'm already screwed on that one, unfortunately. Still, it should make you guys' life a little easier."

Javier seemed reluctant to believe her. "Yeah, maybe..."

Lanie studied her boyfriend's face with concern. "Javi?" she asked. "You okay?"

She didn't wait for Javier to answer the the question. She didn't need to. Putting down her fork, Lanie pushed out her chair and stood up, crossing over to sit in her boyfriend's lap. Lanie cupped Javier's face in her hands and kissed his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead...every spot that she could think of to reassure him that she was alive, she was safe, and she was *here*. Because ever since Lanie Parish allowed herself to accept that she had fallen in love with Javier Esposito, she knew that they both shared the same gaping wound, the same sore point that neither of them would ever completely be able to move past.

The fear of losing each other.

Javier wrapped his arms around Lanie and pulled her in close, burying his head between her breasts and drinking in every bit of her that he could. Lanie indulged her boyfriend's need to hold her close, letting her spirit dive in and out of his body in a wave of soothing and comfort. "Shhhh, baby," she whispered in a voice meant only for him, "It's okay. I'm here...I'm right here..."

They came together that night, uniting in a way that was more than just sex; they became one in mind and body, heart and soul. Because even though there was that thorn in their sides, even though there was that potential for pain that would never leave them, they had each other.

And, finally, that was enough.

* * *

The next morning, Fallon taped a new picture up on the murder board. "Elsa Lindberg, aka Tara McNeil."

Castle studied the picture carefully as he sipped his coffee. "Swedish, eh? Not often you see a Swedish brunette..."

Ignoring the comment, Fallon continued, "Lindberg is a well-known master thief with ties to the Russian mob."

"So if she was dating Atwater under an alias looking like *that*..." commented Ryan as she studied the frame from the surveillance photo.

Fallon picked up on the thought immediately. "Then we have to assume she was working Atwater to get access to the anthrax spores. And I'm going to have to take over this case."

The four others crowded around the murder board rolled their eyes almost simultaneously. As much as all of them knew this was coming, it didn't mean that they had to *like* it. "What do you need from us, *sir*?" asked Beckett.

Fallon let out a long-suffering sigh; taking over cases from the local PD on their turf was one of his least favorite parts of the job. He knew the cops took it personally, and it was completely understandable for them to be frustrated; still, with so much on the line, there were times that it just needed to be done. "Now that we know who she is, it's even more important to find her *now*. If she hasn't stolen the anthrax you can bet she's planning the heist as we speak. And if she gets her hands on those spores she'll immediately turn them around to the highest bidder."

"Who will probably use them on *us*," added Castle.

"Or some other major city, yeah," agreed Fallon.

"Let's put out a BOLO out to the uniforms with her picture, see if anything pops up," Beckett suggested to the group. Four heads nodded in agreement when the ringtone of Beckett's cell phone interrupted their conversation. "Detective Beckett," she answered, catching the group's complete attention. "Yeah...yeah...hang on, I got someone here who needs to talk to you." Pulling the phone away from her ear, Beckett informed Fallon, "this is detective Demming in Robbery." As the three Guardians surrounding her raised curious eyebrows, Beckett ignored the men and continued, "Bernham Atwater and Associates was broken into last night. Three guesses whose lab they focused on?"

This was the news that Agent Fallon had been dreading. Grabbing the phone from Beckett, he spat out orders like a general. "This is Agent Mark Fallon, Homeland Security. This robbery is directly connected to a Federal Investigation, I'm sure you understand what that means?...Good man. My people and I are on our way." Fallon hung up the phone and recognized that he was at a crossroads. He could call for the Homeland Security team...will probably have to, given his orders to get "boots on the ground" the second a threat was ascertained. But this team...the last time he didn't trust their instincts, he almost lost a dirty bomb in the middle of Manhattan and two members of the team nearly died to overcome his mistakes. He owed them. And he *hated* owing people. "All right people," he ordered the group in front of him, "let's get going."

Ryan had to keep himself from smiling as he grabbed his jacket.

* * *

The lab was crawling with forensic techs. Every inch of the lab was being photographed and catalogued in order to see what was missing and in the hopes of understanding where the thief went and how they stole whatever it was that they stole.

One man, though, didn't need a comparison of what was in the room and what had been in the room. He was pretty sure he knew *exactly* what had been stolen. Agent Fallon ignored nearly everyone else in the room and walked right up to the nervously pacing business owner. "Mr. Bernham? Could you point out to us where a certain...classified project would have been kept?" Bernham didn't even bother to nod in acknowledgement, simply walking over to a secure refrigerator in the back of the lab. He used his key code to open the door...and it became clear to everyone exactly *what* the thief had been targeting. "We'll need the security footage for the past 24 hours," Fallon ordered the lab owner.

Bernham nodded and left the room, despondent over the theft and what it was going to mean for the future of his company. As the forensic techs started to work to attempt to take prints on the door and on the shelf where the anthrax spores had once been stored, Beckett stepped deeper into the walk-in refrigerator. She closed her eyes, trying to focus all her concentration on filtering out the smells of the crime scene so she could place the one odd smell that was nagging at the back of her mind, trying desperately to convince her of its importance.

Ryan noticed his boss' attempts at self-segregation. _Beckett? _he projected through the mind-link, _What is it?_

_There's this smell I'm having trouble placing..._Beckett replied, _It's kind of like...shower gel..._

_Shower gel? _Ryan asked, _Beckett, there's a lot of people in this room, are you sure..._

_No, _Beckett replied, cutting him off, _not shower gel...perfume. The smell...it's odd...unique..._Realization dawned on Beckett quickly. _I know which hotel our thief is staying at._

_Which one? _asked Esposito.

_The Berkshire, _Beckett replied. _My mother got me a room there after my senior prom. They have specially made custom-scented toiletries. With *that* smell._

Beckett turned around in the walk-in refrigerator, focusing her thoughts on following up the lead when Castle's voice down the mind-link stopped her cold. _How are we going to explain this to Fallon, Kate?_

_We put a BOLO out on Lindberg, right? _ asked Beckett.

Ryan, Castle and Esposito agreed in unison through the mind-link. _Yeah..._

_So we can just tell Fallon that the BOLO panned..._the buzz of her vibrating cell phone cut off the mind-link conversation. "Beckett?" She walked out of the refrigerator with the phone to her ear, looking more and more frustrated every second. "Yes...yes...okay, we'll be right there." Beckett closed the phone with her team surrounding her. _Turns out that BOLO panned out after all, _she projected through the mind-link. _That was dispatch. Tara McNeil was just spotted in her room at the Berkshire. She's dead._

* * *

**As always, comments greatly encouraged! Remember, lots of comments make for a happy writer, and happy writers write faster. =)**


	5. Chapter 5

The body of Elsa Lindberg lay face-up on the fine cotton duvet, the red-brown drying blood a startling contrast to the purity of the white cloth surrounding it. Agent Fallon walked around the richly appointed hotel room, taking in the condition of the body within the context of the tattered remnants of the once-luxurious furniture.

Detective Kate Beckett was taking in the surroundings as well...starting with one of her best sources of information. "So Lanie, what do we got?"

"Single GSW to the head," replied Lanie. "She was sitting on the bed, and got it right between the eyes from someone standing above her. Pretty straightforward."

"So no signs of...?" Beckett asked, hoping Lanie would catch on to the unspoken part of her question.

"None," replied Lanie, shaking her head. "She's clean."

Fallon looked up at Lanie, surprised by her confidence in the statement. "Really? You're *completely* sure about that?"

Lanie backtracked smoothly. "She doesn't show the signs of respiratory failure. I'll do a blood workup to verify, but my preliminary finding..."

Fallon held up a hand to stop Lanie's explanation. "I'll take your word for it, thanks." He looked around the space one more time before speaking to Beckett. "I don't think we need to guess what the motive was here."

Beckett shook her head, rolling out the blueprints she found on the desk. "No, you're right about that. She was definitely killed for the spores."

Fallon looked over Beckett's shoulder, examining the copy of the lab's blueprints she discovered. "This is where Lindberg planned the theft?" Beckett nodded.

Castle crossed the room to join them at the table. "We know that she had to have stolen the spores some time last night. So to have been murdered so quickly after the theft..."

"Either she was murdered by her client who didn't want to pay..." said Beckett, picking up on the train of thought quickly.

"Or someone got wind of the theft and stepped in to acquire the weapon for themselves," Fallon completed the thought as both Castle and Beckett nodded in agreement.

"We need to find out who she was talking to leading up to the theft last night," said Beckett.

Fallon noticed a couple of items underneath the blueprints on the desk. "Well, we've got her laptop and smartphone," he told the two Guardians, "so that should give us an idea of what her schedule was like when she was alive."

* * *

The security on the both the phone and the laptop were, thankfully, relatively simple for the federal forensics team to crack. Of course, that still meant finding needle-sized clues in a couple of giant virtual haystacks. Agent Fallon stared at the laptop like he was hoping the ghost of Elsa Lindberg would appear over his shoulder and explain her filing system to him. When Elsa's ghost failed to appear, Fallon pushed his chair back from the desk to give his eyes a break.

Castle watched the Homeland Security agent with great sympathy. "Any luck?"

"No," replied Fallon with barely contained annoyance. "Any luck with the phone?"

"Maybe," Castle replied. "Ms. Lindberg had an appointment this afternoon."

Curious, Fallon scooted his chair over from Beckett's desk to Castle's. "Let me see that," he asked. Castle handed Fallon the phone, and the agent scrolled down to the appointment listing the other man had found. "5pm Derek, Library Hotel Lobby."

"So who's Derek?" asked Beckett.

"Maybe the buyer?" asked Castle.

"Or the fence..." Fallon mused. He stared at Beckett, cataloging her every feature...

...and making her *extremely* uncomfortable. "Something I can help you with, sir?" Beckett asked him.

"You know, you look a little bit like our dead thief..." Fallon commented. "Right makeup, maybe a wig..."

Beckett realized where Fallon was going with his thoughts and she did *not* like the idea. "You think I should take Elsa's place in the meeting?"

Fallon presented his explanation. "Okay, worst-case scenario: this Derek killed Elsa, took the spores and won't show to the meeting. If Derek didn't kill her, though, then he's probably either the fence or the original buyer and might be our best shot to find whoever *does* have the spores."

Beckett sighed as she realized that Fallon was right. "What do you need me to do?"

"Good. Let's get you to someone to do your makeup..." said Fallon.

"Um..." Beckett cut Fallon off before he could finish his instructions. "The NYPD has a really good makeup guy. Okay if I use them?"

Fallon nodded, knowing that the compromise would earn him good will that he might need to cash in on later. "All right. Can you be back in an hour?" When Beckett nodded, Fallon took Elsa's picture off the wall to use as a guide and handed it to her. "Then I'll see what other leads we can get off the tech and I'll see you in an hour."

Ryan watched the conversation between Fallon and Beckett with great interest...and just a little confusion. He frowned as he watched Beckett head for the elevator and connected with her through the mind-link. _We don't have an NYPD makeup artist..._

_Nope, _Beckett agreed.

_So what are you thinking? _asked Ryan.

_Do you remember when we played "Truth or Dare" in the Hamptons?_

An image of a white-haired Alexis flashed through Ryan's mind. Connecting the dots between that image and what Beckett was planning, he knew *exactly* what he needed to do. Ryan projected into his captain's mind, _Uh sir, I think I need to help Beckett..._

Gates held up a hand to try and silence the thought from her office. _Go. I'll cover for you._

* * *

"Are you NUTS?!"

Beckett winced at her friend's tone of voice. "Lanie, they asked me to do this thing, made it sound like there was no other option to find out whoever's got those spores, and I remembered that thing you did with Alexis' hair, and I just figured..."

"What?" asked Lanie, clearly nervous. "What, you just figured I could rearrange your face on demand?! From a picture?!"

"There's no one else I would trust my face with," countered Beckett with a smile.

"Stop trying to butter me up," grumbled Lanie. "Do you know how much damage I could do to you? Unless you consider breathing through your nose unimportant?"

Ryan closed the door to the morgue quietly as he entered the argument. "Can I help?" he volunteered.

Lanie wheeled around in surprise when she heard a new voice enter the conversation, then rolled her eyes when she recognized who that voice belonged to. "Oh great," Lanie commented sarcastically, "it's the goddamned Energizer bunny..."

Beckett understood her friend's apprehension, but she also realized that she was running out of time. "Lanie, I can understand why you're nervous. But if Fallon's right, then this might be our best shot at stopping something catastrophic. And I don't want to trust that to whether some makeup artist had blended the makeup around a prosthetic properly. I trust *you*. You can do this."

Lanie sighed, trying to get the nervousness she was feeling out of her system. Beckett was right; it wasn't *that* far of a stretch to change, say, eye color, or the shape of her lips. And Lindberg *did* have the same face shape that Beckett did. _A little tweak of the hair color, maybe a couple of adjustments to her nose..._"All right," Lanie finally relented, "get up here and let's get this over with."

Beckett hopped up onto the clean autopsy table while her best friend pulled open a refrigerated door. Uncovering the face of the deceased thief, Lanie traced the outline of her ears, the contour of her eyes and eyebrows, the shape of her nose and lips. She then drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly to steady her nerves, and entered into the trance. Lanie changed her friend's eyes first, changing the color from their normal hazel to the startlingly pale Swedish light blue. Next was the shape of her friend's eyes and eyebrows...a little wider set, a little more narrow...

Ryan had to stop himself from audibly gasping as he watched the transformation of his boss' face. He opened his mind to Lanie's projecting peace and balance to keep her relaxed. Ryan felt the now-familiar tug on his mind, and he opened a second channel of energy and focus for Lanie to tap into.

Finally, Lanie came out of the trance and both women opened their eyes. It was then that Lanie and Ryan both allowed themselves to gasp at the results before them. Beckett watched the reactions of her friends and a knot of terror formed in her stomach. _I don't *feel* all that different, but still..._"Guys? I...I do look okay, right?"

Ryan broke out into an amazed smile, comparing what he was seeing in the picture with what he saw on the face in front of him. "Beckett," he replied, "you look *much* better than okay..."

"So it worked?" asked Beckett. Ryan nodded, so Beckett turned to her friend, who was rummaging around in her desk for something. "Lanie? Do you have a mirror?"

"One second," exclaimed Lanie, "that's what I've been looking for..." Finally, Lanie found the mirror, and she handed Beckett the mirror with an excited self-satisfaction.

The differences were impressive, to say the least. Beckett smiled as she realized that the final product exceeded every hope she had when she first walked into the morgue. A brief flash of disbelief caused her to giggle when Beckett saw a face that was so different from her own laugh when she did.

It took a few minutes, but Beckett soon composed herself. She turned to Ryan and gave him his own set of orders to follow during the meeting. "Lanie did an incredible job with my face, but there's nothing we can do about my voice, unfortunately. Can you do that perception filter so that if this Derek shows up, he'll recognize my voice as Elsa's?"

Ryan nodded. "No problem, boss."

"Good. Keep your mind open. If this Derek doesn't show but there's someone else in that lobby who knows where those spores are, then I want to know about it. This is far too important for us to not use every weapon we've got at our disposal."

* * *

**Hope you're enjoying so far! Don't forget to leave comments! Even if there's something you don't like, I still would love to hear from you!**


	6. Chapter 6

Beckett smiled as she watched the men and women she had been working with for years pass her like they had never met. _Only one more test to pass..._she thought. Beckett crossed the bullpen to her desk, where Castle, Esposito and Fallon were gathered to discuss the upcoming meeting. Clearing her throat, she asked the men, "So, are we ready to go to the hotel, gentlemen?"

The three men turned around and nearly showered Beckett in spit-take coffee. Castle was the first one to find his voice. "Beckett?!"

Esposito was having trouble believing his eyes as well. "Is that you, Beckett?"

Ryan joined the group, enjoying every minute of the two men's amazement. _Not bad, huh?_

_Is this your perception filter? _asked Esposito.

_Nope, _replied Ryan, _this was *all* Lanie. It's permanent until she undoes it._

Fallon tilted Beckett's head by the chin, examining Beckett's disguise closely...until finally letting out a low whistle. "I'd swear I was looking at a ghost...Remind me to buy your makeup guy a beer when this is over."

"Well, I would," said Beckett, "but *she* has a boyfriend."

Esposito had to resist cracking a smile. _That she does..._

Taking the teasing in stride, Fallon started to go over the plan again from the beginning. "All right, Detective Beckett, after this, we'll get a wire on you, then you'll wait at these couches by the front desk. I'll have my men at every entrance and at these three points in the lobby..."

"If it's all right," Beckett suggested, "I'd like to have my men in the lobby with me. Not Castle, of course, just Ryan and Esposito."

Fallon shrugged, "Don't see why not...Okay, we'll have Ryan take over for Jones and Esposito switch with Delancey. All we really need is for Derek to establish contact with you. Once you've verified it's him, get him outside. We'll take it from there."

"Okay," agreed Beckett. "Let's do this."

As the team left for the hotel, Beckett instructed her team in a more private setting. _Javi, I only care about one thing: whatever this guy knows, I don't want to have to rely on Rambo's interrogation tactics to know about it, got it?_

_Got it, _replied Esposito.

_Ryan, if you catch *anybody* besides Derek looking for Elsa Lindberg or the spores, follow them. Castle and Esposito will back you up once we've got Derek if you need it. Keep us posted of your location at *all* times._

_Got it, _replied the three men in unison.

_Let's get this guy, okay? The sooner we secure these spores, the sooner we can get rid of Agent Fallon..._

* * *

The Library lobby was a simple and clean space. Beckett flipped through one of the coffee table books as she tried to inconspicuously look around. _Ryan, _she asked, _any sign of Derek? _

Ryan, having no need to focus on his surroundings to zero in on his target, kept his mind open and his eyes squarely focused on a thick historical novel. _Nope, _he replied with a mind-voice consumed by boredom, _nothing._

Beckett looked at her watch. _4:55. Think he'll show?_

_No idea...wait..._Ryan looked up from his paper. Through the chaos of listening to so many minds at once he heard the name Elsa. Latching on to the thought immediately, Ryan traced the thought back to its owner. _Derek Rhodes, 2 o'clock. _

Beckett turned to watch a group of people coming in her direction. One man, in particular, seemed to look Beckett square in the eye. It wasn't a flirtatious glance, or one speaking of fear or anger. If anything, the man looked like he was trying to match up Beckett's face with a picture that he had in his mind.

_Don't worry, _Ryan projected, _he doesn't seem to know her. They corresponded through e-mail._

_All right, then, _thought Beckett, _Esposito, your turn._

_On it, _thought Esposito. Using the mind-link to pick out who his partner was focused on, Esposito went to work. "Derek? Derek Rhodes?"

Derek looked at the man who called his name, confused. "Do I know you?"

Esposito moved in to aggressively shake the man's hand, downloading his life in a fraction of a second. He decided to divert attention from the physical contact by using the 'shock and awe' technique. In one long breath, Esposito carried on a full conversation all at once. "Dude, you don't remember me? Julio Flores from Anchor Bay High School! We used to play football together! I can't believe you don't remember me. Hey, I'm heading to a meeting now, but we should get a beer later and catch up. Sounds good? Okay then! Later!"

Ryan had to stop himself from audibly chuckling at the muddled mess of confused thoughts that were now running through their target's head. It didn't stop the laughter from breaking through to the mind-link, however. _Nicely done, partner! You got him?_

_Yeah, _replied Esposito, _I got him. _He ducked into a nearby vestibule to make sure he stayed hidden from Derek while not leaving his 'post'. _Beckett, you're up._

Beckett put her book down on the coffee table, making sure to make eye contact with their target. _She must have sent him a picture, _projected Ryan, _he recognized you immediately._

Derek strolled confidently up to Beckett and casually kissed the top of her hand. "Elsa," he purred, "so nice to finally meet you in person. That picture you sent me simply does not do you justice."

Beckett replied with an equal level of flirtatiousness. "Derek. The pleasure is *all* mine..."

Castle had to resist the urge to gag through the mind-link. _Beckett..._he warned.

_Hush, _Beckett countered, not wanting to lose her focus for the sole purpose of soothing her boyfriend's ego.

"So?" asked Derek, clearly looking to her to lead the conversation.

"So?" Beckett countered.

"Where is it?" asked Derek.

Beckett laughed casually at the man, taking an aggressive stance. "Do you think I would have been foolish enough to bring the product with me to such a public meeting place? How *stupid* do you think I am?"

_Tread carefully, _Ryan projected into Beckett's mind, _he's starting to think something's up._

"But you *do* have it?" Derek asked warily.

"Of course I have it," Beckett spat out, "but there's no way I was going to bring something that dangerous into a place where I could get run into like *you* did."

_Ask him about a buyer, _Esposito suggested, _last e-mail he sent he didn't have one._

"And what about a buyer?" continued Beckett without missing a beat, "I'm sure as hell not turning over the goods without *knowing* that I'm going to get paid."

Derek insisted, "I have *several* buyers lined up, actually..."

_He does, _Esposito informed them through the mind-link, _all pretty recent calls._

"Then," Beckett cut their target off, "don't you think we should continue this discussion in a place where there aren't cameras following our every move?"

"Sure," shrugged Derek. "Let's go."

Beckett escorted their target through the lobby toward one of the hotel's side entrances, where Derek was promptly pushed into the side of the wall and handcuffed. Derek was clearly in complete shock. "What the hell...?"

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD," Beckett replied casually. "These gentlemen here are from Homeland Security. They have a few questions about your business with Elsa Lindberg."

Derek did a double take as he was ushered into the waiting squad car. "You mean you're not Elsa?!" Beckett shook her head, leaving Derek shaking his own head in disbelief. "My God, the resemblance..."

* * *

Captain Gates quietly entered the Observation room to join Ryan and Esposito, who were watching Fallon and Beckett attempt to get information out of Derek Rhodes in the box. "How's it going in there?" she asked the two men in the room with her.

"Not good," Esposito replied. "Aside from being surprised when Beckett entered the box looking like *herself*, he's showed no emotion and has said nothing."

"But...considering the chewing out I heard Fallon give you earlier, I take it we already have everything we ever wanted to know about Mr. Rhodes?" asked Gates.

Esposito nodded. "Yes, sir...the problem, of course, is that Fallon doesn't know that."

"Which makes the information inactionable..." muttered Gates. Ryan and Esposito nodded as the captain turned to watch the one-sided scene in the box. "What are the odds that we're going to be able to charge this man with anything?"

"Slim to none, sir," replied Ryan. "Unless Fallon and his team have information on him that we don't."

"So we're mostly looking to get information from him to point to Lindberg's possible killer, who we are assuming has the spores?" asked Gates.

Ryan and Esposito both nodded. "Yes, sir."

Gates considered the situation carefully as she watched the stoic face of Derek Rhodes in the box. "Can either of you get Mr. Rhodes to give the necessary information to Agent Fallon through your...particular talents?"

"I can, sir," Ryan replied simply.

It didn't take long for Gates to weigh the potential danger to her city against the rights of the man in the Box. As she left the observation room, Gates' instructions were simple, but direct. "Do it. Whatever you have to do."

* * *

Esposito turned his attention back to his partner after Captain Gates had left the room. "Okay bro," he said, "you got a plan here?"

"Yep," Ryan replied with a smile. "First, we gotta shake him up a bit..."

The two men watched as Beckett repeated her question for the third time. "I'm not going to say this again, *what* was your relationship to Elsa Lindberg?"

Ryan and Esposito watched as Rhodes jumped out of his chair with a look of pure terror on his face. "B-b-but you're not her..." he said, as if he was trying to calm himself back down. "Y-you said so..."

"Perception filter?" asked Esposito.

Ryan nodded and smiled. "Make him think he's seeing Lindberg's ghost."

Esposito returned his partner's smile. "Nice..."

"That's right, Mr. Rhodes, I'm not Elsa Lindberg." Beckett took in Rhodes' terrified expression and suspected Ryan might have something to do with it. Giving her fellow Guardian the time to shake up the scared man a little more, Beckett inched closer as she stated slowly, "Elsa Lindberg...is *dead*!" The frightened yelp coming from Derek Rhodes on the word 'dead' confirmed her suspicions. "Now what was your relationship with..."

"She was a thief, okay!" Derek exclaimed, cutting Beckett off. "I was her fence for the high-end stuff."

"Like the anthrax spores?" pushed Fallon. Derek nodded weakly. "Who were you planning to sell them to?"

Derek retreated into himself again, much more afraid of the wrath of his clients than even Elsa Lindberg's 'ghost'. Ryan took advantage of that fear. _Tell them everything..._he projected into Rhodes' mind. _They can protect you, but only if you coopera..._

"NO!" screamed Derek, talking to the voice in his head. "Y-y-you can't protect me from these guys. N-n-n-n-no one can."

Ryan focused on pouring peace and comfort into the Box to soothe the terrified man, which stopped his twitching and allowed him to visibly calm himself down. _Th-this is Homeland Security, right? _Ryan projected in his best imitation of the terrified man's voice. _Th-they make people disappear all the time, don't they?"_

Rhodes nodded weakly, agreeing with the voice in his head. "Yeah..."

"Who were the buyers?!" pushed Fallon, thinking the other man hadn't hear him.

_Tell them, _Ryan projected into Rhodes' mind.

Finally, Derek Rhodes broke for good. "I-I-I was originally going to sell the spores to the highest bidder, bu-bu-but then I figured I'd make more money if I split them up and sold each vial separately."

Fallon slammed a hand down on the table as he stood up, startling everyone in the Box *and* in the observation room. "Who were the BUYERS?!"

"North Korea!" Rhodes spat out. "North Korea was going to get 2, the Taliban was going to take 2...and the rest were going to go to Medin al shems."

The third name was one that Beckett wasn't familiar with. "Medin al...?"

"Medin al shems," Fallon cut off her question by answering it. "Relatively new group, funded by a couple of crazy Saudi oil billionaires. Their name refers to the city where the phoenix is supposed to rise from the ashes. Their goal..." Fallon's eyes widened as he started to connect the dots together. "They've stated that their goal is to kill the infidels...us...but leave the 'tools of western decadence' behind to be used in the service of Allah."

"Th-th-the last time I talked to their guy," Rhodes added. "He said he wanted to give me some advice..."

"What advice was that?" asked Beckett.

"He said after they took delivery and paid me, I should leave town. And plan to never come back."

* * *

**Don't forget to send comments! It *really* helps to hear whether or not you guys like what you've read...  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Fallon was on the phone immediately after getting out of the Box. Castle watched the agent with a level of cautious curiosity as he headed back to the seat between Castle and Beckett's desks. "Who's he calling?" asked Castle.

"No idea," Beckett replied. "Hey, do you know anything about this terrorist group that Rhodes gave us?"

Castle shook his head. "Sorry. Apparently they were formed *after* I 'killed off' Derrick Storm. I didn't keep up with my terrorists groups after I started following around this NYPD detective. There wasn't really much call for it..."

Fallon got off the phone just as Castle and Beckett returned to their desks. "That was my contact at the CIA. He's sending me everything he's got on the Medin al shems, including listings of their real estate holdings."

"Real estate *holdings*?" asked Castle. "How many could they have?"

* * *

Three hours later, Castle was eating his words. "Apparently these guys have a *lot* of real estate holdings..." He pushed himself away from the table to give his eyes a rest. "As much as I like to *say* that I'm rich, compared to these guys..."

"You're still richer than me, bro," commented Esposito, never looking up from his section of the inches-thick spreadsheet.

"He's probably richer than all of us together...including Fallon. No offense, sir," added Ryan, taking down another listing from his section of the pile.

Castle protested, "I don't have *this* kind of money. Probably never will. I mean, look at this. These guys own five warehouses in Jersey City, three in Brooklyn, and at least a dozen in Long Island City. Really, who needs that many ware..."

"Let me see that," Fallon half-asked as he grabbed the stack of papers out of Castle's hands. Scanning the list, he began to think out loud. "These guys made their money in oil. Which means they have tanker boats coming in and out of this area all the time..."

Beckett was starting to see where Fallon's train of thought was headed. "If they stuck a couple of shipping containers onto every tanker they sailed to New York..."

"They could store all sorts of things here..." added Castle.

"Including the tools needed to mass produce anthrax," Fallon concluded, the nervous edge in his voice getting more pronounced by the minute. "Highlight every warehouse address you can find. I'm going to go talk to your captain about getting us more help."

* * *

Castle closed his eyes as the black van crossed the 59th Street bridge, trying to keep calm and focus his energies on the upcoming raid. His mind, though, kept wandering...

No one noticed Castle's unnatural level of silence more than his partner. "Something on your mind, Castle?" she asked.

"Besides how much I hate wearing Kevlar?" he countered. Castle tapped a finger to his temple as a signal to Ryan that he wanted to open a mind-link conversation.

Ryan obliged his friend immediately. _Floor's open. What's up, Castle?_

_Guys, even if we walk into this warehouse and find a lab full of anthrax-replication equipment, what are the odds that we're going to find the *ringleader* of this operation overseeing the whole thing?_

_Pretty small, _replied Beckett, _they're going to be as far out of town as they can get so they don't get sick._

_*But*, _countered Castle, _they're also going to want to stay in the area to see if everything worked. _

_What are you trying to say, Castle? _asked Esposito.

Castle sighed audibly, knowing how much he didn't like even thinking about what he was thinking about, much less having to talk it over with his team. _We all know Fallon is more the shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later type. If, God forbid, all the suspects end up dead, we could be back at square one if we need to find the ringleader. *We* all know that there's a way to subdue the suspects without having to shoot them..._

Ryan finally caught on to his friend's train of thought. _But we could risk exposing our abilities to Agent Fallon if it comes to that. _Castle nodded.

Beckett considered their conversation carefully. _Okay, if we're lucky, this will just be a lab and we'll be able to take these guys down quickly and unharmed. But if we're not so lucky...there are thousands, maybe tens of thousands of lives at stake here if we fail, guys. I've already told Ryan that we need to use every weapon we've got to stop these people. I see no reason to do any less here._

_But...Agent Fallon..._countered Esposito.

Beckett cut the response off quickly. _We'll jump off that bridge *if* we come to it, okay?_

Three heads nodded in agreement.

* * *

The team pulled up to the entrance to the warehouse building, getting out quickly and quietly. Fallon sent Ryan and Esposito with a small SWAT squad to the opposite side of the warehouse, leaving Beckett and Castle with him. _I'll be damned if some civilian observer is going to get himself shot on *my* watch, _thought Fallon.

That 'civilian observer' shielded his team as they were waiting for Fallon to give the signal to go in. He then told them through the mind-link, _Good luck, guys. Be careful._

_You too, bro, _Esposito thought back.

Beckett simply grabbed Castle's hand with her free hand and squeezed it in response.

Fallon held up a hand and grabbed a walkie-talkie to show that he was about to give the count. He used his fingers to hold up visually what he was quietly counting into the walkie:

3...

2...

1...

Now!

It was then that all hell broke loose.

The sound of splintering wood and loud calls of "FREEZE! NYPD!" were quickly lost in a hail of bullets. This was a lab, to be sure. But it was a heavily fortified lab with a dozen guards at each entrance, all of whom were heavily armed and armored.

Fallon and his team took cover even as a few of the unfortunate first on the scene went down to lucky shots in areas that weren't protected by their body armor. Castle and Beckett took cover as well...mostly for appearances' sake. _Did you see anything before we had to duck? _asked Castle.

Beckett shook her head. _Too busy focusing on getting to cover. You?_

_Same, _replied Castle. _What about you guys?_

Ryan replied, _Sorry, we got pinned down same as you guys..._

_This is going to keep going until one side or the other runs out of bullets..._commented Esposito.

Beckett peeked her head out from her cover to focus on what was going on past the bullets. The scene was everything she had hoped she *wouldn't* see: a lab setup next to two large metal tanks. At the bottom of the tanks were large plastic containers that looked as if they were being filled by the metal tanks. The plastic containers were being loaded onto a powerboat through a dock entrance. Beckett stretched her sight to the opposite side of the East River, where a similar-looking powerboat was heading in to unload its cargo...

...onto crop-dusting helicopters parked at the Intrepid helipad. _We don't have time for this, _Beckett announced urgently. _They're loading up to attack while we're pinned down here._

_So all bets are off? _Castle asked as a nervous knot formed in his own stomach.

_We got no choice, _replied Beckett.

_Copy that, _replied Ryan and Esposito in unison. The two Guardians ducked out from behind cover, ignoring the bullets flying off their shields as they ran headlong into the squad that had been shooting at them.

Beckett took off at a dead sprint towards the dock, trying to stop the boat that had already left. Stopping just before she would have jumped into the river, Beckett knelt down, focused her sight squarely on the boat, aimed and fired.

Castle focused on the lab techs, all of whom were armed, and all of whom had ducked behind cover to protect themselves in case the cops got past the guards. He shocked every lab tech he found with light energy bursts, knocking them unconscious, then jogged out to the dock in case Beckett needed any help.

Ryan and Esposito worked at top speed, taking down six guards each, one by one, in full-on hand-to-hand combat. They then sprinted across the warehouse to take care of the other dozen guards in the same way.

Beckett fired four times, hitting the driver of the boat and the boat's three passengers with perfect headshots. The driver's body fell on the accelerator just as Beckett felt Castle's presence behind her. "The boat's out of control," she told him, "I killed the driver."

"Got it," said Castle. He called up a fierce headwind to stop the boat and turn it around. Now that the boat was heading back towards *them*, Castle send an energy bolt across the river to kill the engine, then controlled the wind just enough to steer the boat safely back to the dock.

Beckett and Castle both let out the breath they hadn't realized they were holding. Relieved that the worst was past, they turned around to find Ryan, Esposito...

...and a shell-shocked Agent Fallon standing behind them. His gaze rotated between the four Guardians, not knowing what to say. He seemed to have gotten back enough of his self-control to try and speak, but was stopped when both his phone and Beckett's rang at the same time.

Esposito answered Beckett's phone so she could listen in on both conversations. The information, though...sadly...was pretty much the same. She announced to Castle and Ryan what the rest of the group already knew.

"That was Gates. Four crop-dusting helicopters have been spotted over Central Park. The whole area was just sprayed with anthrax."

* * *

**Hi everyone! I know, short chapter. It just seemed like the right place to stop. Fallon's going to need some time to...process, let's say, and that's going to take a while. So I figured I'd post the raid in one quick, action packed chapter so I can take my time with a part I know you all are going to really enjoy. Trust me. ;)  
**

**I've got some question for you guys. Every time I get a new person listing me for a favorite story, favorite author, or following a story in the series, I always go to your pages and see what else you've favored. It's been an interesting tool when it comes to getting to know you, my wonderful readers. =) Some of you have just gone all in, favoriting every story in the series and me as an author. I can't tell you all how spoiled and grateful I feel when I see y'all like my stories that much. You guys totally motivate me to keep posting and posting quickly. But I'm also fascinated and amazed by some of you other guys out there. **

**Some of you guys...when I look on your favorite stories list, this series will be the only Castle stories. Or the only fantasy stories on a list with a lot of Castle. So, since I eventually want to transition over into more original stories, I'm curious. How did you find me? What drew you to these stories? Have you just read Contagion, or have you read the whole series and are picking and choosing what goes on your favorites list?  
**

**When I first started this series, my response went mostly along the lines of "Oh my God, you like me! You really, really, like me!" And while that's totally and completely still true, I'm now getting curious as to *why*. Thanks!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

The group turned around and headed back to the warehouse. Despondency hung around them like its own cloud of spores. All that work...all that they had sacrificed...had been for *nothing*. "How many people do they estimate have been exposed?" asked Ryan.

"At least 40,000 people visit Central Park every day," Castle commented, "so it was probably 10,000 easy..."

_10,000 people..._the number pounded into Beckett's mind like a silent condemnation of their actions...their failure...

Castle's head jerked back quickly as a thought crossed his mind. He excused himself, telling his friends, "Back in a second, guys," before going back out to the docks.

No one thought to question Castle's action, lost as they were in their own shock. The SWAT Commander was the next person to shake Beckett out of her thoughts. "Detective Beckett?"

It took a moment for Beckett's mind to re-focus on the present. "Oh...yes, sorry. What can I do for you, Commander?"

"What should we do with the suspects?"

_Suspects...right. _Beckett quickly remembered that they had a good 35 people to arrest from this raid. 35 people who were going to pay dearly for their actions..."Call the ME for the four in the boat." She looked briefly over at Agent Fallon, then turned her attention back to the commander. "Ask them to send anybody *but* Dr. Perlmutter or Dr. Parish if they can spare them. Cuff or tie anyone who doesn't have a bullet in them and get them processed. Triage anyone who has an obvious injury and administer any first aid that your men can. Priority, of course, going to your own injured men. Emergency Services are going to be massively overloaded with what's going on in Central Park. You may have to transport people to hospitals yourselves..."

The SWAT Commander simply took the orders without argument. "Yes, ma'am."

Fallon watched the surreal exchange in front of him. Which brought all the other surreal events of the raid back to the front of his mind in full force. "All right, *that's* it," he finally yelled out, "Who the hell *are* you people?"

Beckett turned slowly back towards Fallon in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Cut the crap. I just watched you take out four people from halfway across the East River, these two run through a firefight like they were freakin' bulletproof and *writer-boy* over there throwing wind and lightning around like he was God himself. Now unless you want me to have you all hauled out to Area 51..."

Ryan cut off Fallon's tirade. "I thought Area 51 doesn't exist..."

Fallon cut Ryan off. "For *you four*, they'd build it. And unless you want me to call my boss and have them get started on that little project, I'll ask again. WHO ARE YOU?!"

"I don't know about these guys, but I was born on the planet Krypton and came here as a baby..."

Fallon rolled his eyes even as Castle collapsed in the arms of his friends. _Castle, _Ryan asked through the mind-link, _What happened?_

_I cleaned the anthrax out of the air and ground in Central Park, _replied Castle. Even his mind voice sounded too weak for his friends' liking. _It can't help anybody already exposed, but it'll keep the problem from getting worse._

_Are *you* okay, bro? _asked Esposito.

Castle nodded. _I'll be fine...I just...I just need a minute._

While Ryan opened a secondary channel to pour all the recovery energy into Castle he could handle, Fallon frowned at the three men in confusion. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"I'll be fine," Castle waived off Fallon's question with a smirk. "It was just a little kryptonite, that's all."

All three men rolled their eyes at that one. "Really?" asked Fallon, "That's the story you're going with? That you're Superman?"

"I walked into an experimental science lab on a college tour and got bitten by a radioactive spider..."

Fallon rolled his eyes again. "That's Spider-Man..."

"I went to Forensics one day and the lab got struck by lightning..."

Now Fallon was starting to get angry. "That's the Flash." He pulled out his weapon and pointed it at Castle's head. "You know. In your weakened condition I could probably just shoot you..."

Castle looked into Fallon's eyes with all the confidence, power and history that went with his blessing. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm a wizard?"

Fallon saw what was behind the writer's eyes and faltered, just for a second. He looked at the two men holding Castle up and realized that the whole wizard thing was something that they actually *believed*. Fallon put his gun away and backed up slowly. "No way. No way...that...that's not possible."

"It's true, Fallon."

Fallon wheeled around to see Detective Beckett standing behind him...and backing up the civilian observer's story. "Now, I would have been a lot happier if you had never had to find out about this, but it *is* true. Castle's a wizard."

"Oh really," Fallon snipped sarcastically, "and what does that make you, then? Xena, Warrior Princess?"

A new voice entered the conversation...one only the Guardians could hear. "Honored ones, may I please speak?"

Four heads turned and watched a young brunette-haired woman walking toward them from the water side of the docks. Her tailored business suit, though, was bone-dry, and her brown eyes seemed...haunted. Haunted by a great pain. It was a look that Beckett was all too familiar with. Beckett pushed Fallon aside for the moment before asking the woman, "What is your name, spirit?"

The ghost took a 'breath', apparently to steady her nerves. Going down on one knee, she pled her case. "Honored ones, my name is Rebecca Fallon. My husband is at a great crossroads in his life. The decision he makes now will affect the future of every living being. I was allowed to come here to help him make the right choice."

_Ryan, _asked Beckett through the open mind-link, _can you handle this right now?_

Ryan turned to the man who, until then, had been his primary concern. _I'm fine, _said Castle. _She's right. If Fallon can't be trusted with our secret we're all *screwed*. Right now we need more help with that than anything else._

_Okay then, _Ryan consented, _if you guys are sure..._Pulling the recovery energy from Castle, Ryan focused on making the connection between Fallon and his late wife.

"You can speak to your husband now," said Beckett.

Rebecca Fallon got up from her knees as the Guardians parted...

...and Agent Mark Fallon fell to his knees. All thoughts of questions or wizards or anthrax or anything else disappeared as the ghost of his late wife approached him. "This can't be happening," Fallon shook his head in disbelief. "There's no way this is real. No way, you can't possibly be here. You can't be here...you just can't..."

Rebecca fell to her knees in front of her husband. "Remember, on that day, when I...when I died, when we talked on the phone? You quoted Hamlet, remember? 'Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet princess; And flights of angels...'"

Fallon finished the phrase, choking the sob that threatened to uncork a well of tears that might never stop. "sing thee to thy rest...God, Becca, it's really you?"

"Yeah, honey," Rebecca replied shyly, "it's really me."

Fallon was awestruck even as he was consumed with disbelief. "But...but how?"

Rebecca tilted her head back toward the four Guardians. "Them."

"Them?" Fallon gasped, all his questions coming back in a rush. "They brought you..."

Rebecca shook her head. "They're just the reason you can see me. I came here to see *you*. To help you figure out what you're going to do about all of this." When Fallon frowned back at her in confusion, Rebecca continued, "Mark, sweetheart, I came here to beg you to keep their secret."

Fallon stared back at his wife in disbelief. "You came back to tell me *that*?" Rebecca nodded even as her husband stood up and took a step back, his mind slipping deeper into doubt. "This is a trick, isn't it? They're messing with my head so I see you as some crazy hallucination..."

From behind Rebecca, Castle whispered, "To help the man whose eyes won't see, let this spirit solid be..." A blast of energy surged from Castle, leaving the wizard a weakened heap on the ground...

And pushing Rebecca into her husband's arms. Fallon wrapped his arms around Rebecca, amazed that he could actually *feel* her again. See her. Touch her. Inhale the way her hair always smelled like lavender blossoms...

_Screw it. If this is what a hallucination is like I'll do drugs for the rest of my life, _thought Fallon.

Rebecca, for her part, was just as amazed as her husband was to be in a solid form again. She knew who to ask for an explanation. Turning away from her husband, she turned her attention to Castle. "Sìfāng?"

"This won't last," Castle replied as Beckett and Esposito pulled him up to a barely standing position, "I'm sorry, but I can feel it. I have no power over life or death. You don't have much time."

Rebecca turned back to her awestruck husband. "Mark, please, you *have* to listen to me. Time moves differently on the other side. I've seen so much..." She cradled her husband's face in her hand, and he melted into the touch. "There's so much good you can do. *Will* do. Together. But if you expose them or, God forbid, stick them in a lab somewhere, then none of it will happen...and the good they've already done will have been in vain."

Fallon's mind flashed back to the three pictures the director showed him...the three strangest things he had ever seen in his life, to that point...His mind finally started to make the connection. "The dragon attack..."

Rebecca pushed the point home. "Castle is the *only* reason Manhattan looks like the *third* picture and not the second one." She could feel the energy slipping out of her body, and turned around to see that Castle was having a harder and harder time staying upright. "*Please*, Mark...Will you help them? Will you keep their secret? For *me*?"

Fallon held his wife in his arms, seeing the sincere desperation in her eyes. When Rebecca was alive, he remembered, he couldn't refuse her anything. How could he start now? Tears forming in his eyes, Fallon nodded.

Rebecca embraced her husband as tightly as she could, her relief bringing an energy surge that Fallon swore he could *feel*. "Thank you," said Rebecca.

Fallon hugged his wife tighter even as he felt her slipping away from him. "God, Becca, you don't know how much I've missed you..."

Rebecca's voice was getting harder for Fallon to hear as her body started to fade. "I'm so proud of you, Mark. I love you so much..."

As the spirit of his wife faded from his sight, Fallon's strength finally left him and he fell back down on his knees. "I love you too, Rebecca," he whispered. "I love you with all my heart..."

When he finally looked up, Fallon saw four people watching him carefully. He averted their gaze, choosing to focus on his hands instead. "After...that day," he tried to explain, "when everyone was just considered 'missing'...I prayed. I prayed every single day. I prayed that if God ever gave me one more chance to see her again, even if it was just for a *moment*, I would do anything he asked me to do..." His voice trailed off before letting out a bitter chuckle. "Even after they were all declared dead I held out hope for a while." Fallon looked up at the sky, then back down at his hands again. "And now...*twelve* years later...here, in the middle of all this..."

Eyes glistening with the tears that threatened to fall and never stop, Fallon looked directly into the eyes of the man to whom he now owed his very life. "Castle...whatever happens, whatever you need me to do, *anything* you need me to do, I'll do it. And this...secret of yours? I'll take it to my grave."

Castle looked to his friends, who all seemed to be letting out a collective sigh of relief. Motioning in the direction he wanted to go, Castle shuffled across the dock until he was able to finally sit down next to Fallon. "Then maybe you should find out what this secret *is*, don't you think?"

* * *

**Yep, 2 chapters today. I got so excited writing this one that it just went crazy quick. Hope you guys enjoyed it, but let me know either way. :) And for the Esplanie-ites who want more of their favorite couple, Chapter 9 will make you very, very happy. I promise *g*. However, for those who were looking for the heavy angst...I just don't think it's going to happen. Hence the category change. The story took a different turn. Sorry! :(  
**


	9. Chapter 8a

**A/N: Hi guys! This is probably the only time you'll ever hear me say this, but this chapter is *entirely* optional. Fallon needed time as a character to process everything that happened in the last chapter (heck, wouldn't you?!), so that's what this chapter is. That's why I've named it Chapter 8a and not Chapter 9. I also know that I've written this explanation at least 3 other times over the course of this series and some of you might be sick of hearing it. Heck, I had a nasty case of writer's block just trying to come up with a new way to *write* it. So if you don't want to read it, I completely understand. You will lose *nothing* in the context of the story if you skip this chapter altogether. And I promise, I will get the real chapter 9 up soon, so the Esplanie fans don't have to stop reading this story in protest. ;).**

* * *

Fallon finally allowed himself to smile as he settled in next to Castle. "Yeah, that might help," he agreed.

"Do you want to get out of here, maybe? Take this conversation someplace a little more private?" asked Castle.

"Sure," Fallon shrugged in agreement, not really caring one way or another. In the blink of an eye, his surroundings had changed from the warehouse anthrax lab to an upscale Soho loft. Fallon looked around in amazement before helping Castle to his unsteady feet. "Your work, I take it?"

Castle couldn't resist cracking a smile. "Only way to travel..."

"Are *you* okay?" asked Fallon. "That whole thing with Rebecca and whatever you were doing before that seemed to take a lot out of you..."

"I could use a beer," Castle replied with a shrug and a smile. Fallon took two steps toward the kitchen before Castle stopped him. "It's okay, Fallon, I got it. Want one?"

When Fallon nodded, an ice cold beer appeared in his right hand. An amazed laugh escaped his lips before he realized that Castle had conjured up a round for the entire group. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

Beckett finally allowed herself to relax as the four Guardians sat gathered around the table. "It's okay. He *loves* doing that." She pulled out a chair for the only man still standing. "Have a seat, Fallon. We've got a lot to talk about."

Fallon sat down in the offered chair, taking a long drink from his beer bottle. "Just out of curiosity, what *were* you doing back at the docks? I mean, it was pretty clear that helping Becca took a lot out of you, but you were pretty exhausted even before that."

"I was cleaning the air and ground in Central Park," replied Castle.

Fallon was starting to wonder just how many surprises the day was going to hold for him. "Excuse me? Did you just say you cleaned Central Park? *All* of it?"

"I can't do anything for the people who's already been exposed, but at least it will keep the problem from getting worse," Castle replied as he nodded.

Fallon let out a low whistle. "Yeah, I can see how that would take a lot of energy..."

Castle waved off Fallon's comment. "Nah, midtown should have been harder. What wiped me out was just how tough those spores are to kill. I practically had to incinerate the little pests one by one..."

Fallon tried to act like he didn't know anything about the incident Castle was talking about. "Midtown?"

No one at the table was going to stand for the attempt at deception, least of all Esposito. "Nuh uh," the Guardian declared, shaking his head, "don't play that with us, Fallon. We know all about the photos."

Fallon's eyes widened at the idea that four people with him all knew about something he had looked at only once before leaving DC. "Wait a second, those photos are *very* highly classified. I wasn't even allowed to take them out of the director's office. So how...?" asked Fallon.

"Besides being the ones who fought those dragons?" Esposito countered. "My gift is being able to download a person's entire past history when I come in contact with them. Memories, learned abilities, everything. So when I shook your hand, I got your memory of your meeting with your boss...and of the photos."

Fallon thought back to when he chewed out Esposito for getting in the way of trying to bring in Derek Rhodes. "Is that the reason you went out of the way to shake Rhodes' hand at the hotel?" Esposito nodded. "You knew what he was going to say before we broke him..."

Three of the Guardians let out an involuntary snicker at Fallon's description of the event, and the agent frowned in confusion at their response. "Wait...what'd I miss?"

Beckett had her own suspicions about what had happened in the Box, and decided this would be a good chance to confirm them. "I'm pretty sure *we* weren't the ones who broke Rhodes, Fallon."

Fallon turned to the other two detectives, and Ryan raised his glass, taking advantage of the opportunity to get his admissions in the open and over with. "I'm a telepath, Agent Fallon. When Rhodes was in the box I shook him up by superimposing a 'ghost' of Elsa Lindberg over Beckett's face, then projected thoughts in his mind until he gave up the information."

While Beckett raised her bottle in a simple toast to Ryan's creativity, Fallon could only shake his head in amazement. "I'm kinda tempted to see what you guys could get out of some of the people down in Gitmo..." he mused.

Ryan reached deeply into Fallon's mind, sighing with relief at what he found. He exclaimed, "Oh, thank God you're *kidding*..."

Fallon had forgotten how much his relationship with the people at the table was, justifiably, on shaky ground. "I meant what I said earlier, guys. *No one* is going to learn about all this from me." Turning to Esposito, he added with firm conviction, "*especially* not my boss."

Ryan nodded, communicating with his fellow Guardians through their mind-link. _He means every word of what he said. _

The other three people at the table finally let out a collective sigh of relief. "You know," said Beckett, "there *is* one other person who should be here for this conversation. If you guys will excuse me..."

As Beckett got up to call the Medical Examiner's office, Castle suggested, "Have her ask Perlmutter if he can come, too. Once we're done getting Fallon here up to speed we can figure out what our options are."

_Central Park, _though Fallon, remembering what they had gone to the docks for in the first place. It was then that he connected what had just happened with what Castle had just said. "Wait, we have *options*?"

Beckett interrupted the table's conversation. "Castle, Lanie wants to know if you're coming for them, if you're going to bring them here, or if they're on their own for transportation."

"Are they ready to go?" asked Castle.

Beckett relayed the question and got a response back. "Yeah..."

Two new people materialized in the room a moment later. Lanie glared at Castle, clearly annoyed at being plucked out of the lab somewhat unexpectedly. Castle, for his part, was unapologetic. "What? You told Beckett you were ready!"

Lanie's eyes widened as she realized that there was someone in the room that she didn't know. And that she had just popped in directly in front of him. Driving her focus away from her shock and building anger, Lanie reached out a hand to greet their guest. "Dr. Lanie Parish."

"Mark Fallon," he replied with a smile, shaking Lanie's outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."

Lanie's eyes widened again as she recognized the name of the man she had *thought* she might never meet. "*Fallon*? As in *Agent* Mark Fallon, Homeland Security?" When Fallon nodded warily, Lanie blurted out, "y-you...you're much nicer than I expected you to be."

Fallon chuckled at the honesty of Lanie's comment. "Thanks,I think."

Lanie turned to the rest of the group at the table. She asked them, "Does he...?"

"Some of it," replied Beckett. "We were just getting him up to speed."

"We're gonna need a bigger damn clubhouse pretty soon," Lanie muttered.

Everyone had a chuckle at that comment. Perlmutter then stretched out his hand in greeting to Fallon. "Dr. Sidney Perlmutter, new guy."

Fallon smiled, appreciating the descriptor as he shook Perlmutter's hand. "Mark Fallon...*other* new guy."

"Got any more of those beers, Castle?" asked Lanie as she settled into a spot at the table. When a cold beer appeared in both her hand and Perlmutter's, Lanie finally allowed herself to smile. "Almost as good as owning your own bar..." she teased Castle.

When Fallon looked at him curiously, Castle replied to the unanswered question. "It's a place called The Old Haunt. It's not that far from here."

"Did you buy it, or..." Fallon hesitated, having trouble coming up with the exact wording.

Castle smiled, answering Fallon's unfinished question. "I *bought* it several years ago, before all this happened."

"So you weren't always a wizard?" asked Fallon.

Castle shook his head. "This whole thing started last October."

"Wow," exclaimed Fallon, "so you guys *haven't* been at this superhero thing very long." Thinking back over his experiences at the raid, Fallon decided to just start at the top of the list. Turning to Ryan and Esposito, he asked, "Are you guys really bulletproof?"

The two Guardians didn't even blink; they simply pointed over to Castle. "Energy shields," replied Castle. "Beats the hell out of Kevlar..."

"So you guys were wearing the vests today..."

"*Purely* for appearances," Esposito replied. "If I could I'd never put the stuff on again."

Fallon thought about all the times he was stuck wearing a Kevlar vest in 100-plus degree weather. "Yeah, me neither..." he commented. His questions about their part in the raid satisfied for the moment, Fallon turned his attention to Beckett. "The boat..."

Beckett immediately understood the moment to which Fallon was referring. "Super-enhanced sight."

Fallon's eyes widened in surprise. "So that shot was no big deal for you?"

"Well, those shots were the longest I've attempted," Beckett replied, "but seeing the people in the boat? Not a problem."

Fallon started to piece together what he had heard from Castle with what he had heard from Beckett. "You weren't born with this ability, I take it?"

Beckett shook her head. "I got my abilities the same time everybody else did."

Fallon shook his head in disbelief, finding two different questions out of that simple statement. "Abilities? As in more than one?"

"All my senses are enhanced. Including the 'sixth' one," replied Beckett.

"The...sixth one?" asked Fallon. "Becca said that you guys were the reason I could see her..."

Beckett stopped Fallon to correct him. "*I* have the ability to see your wife, when she's around. But I don't have the ability to allow *you* to see her."

Fallon frowned in confusion. "That's a different ability?" Beckett nodded. "But if you don't have it..."

_That would be me, _Ryan projected into Fallon's mind.

Fallon quickly shook his head, surprised by the unusual sensation. _Ryan, is that you?_

_Yeah, _Ryan chuckled through the mind-link, _pretty weird the first time, huh?_

_Definitely, _thought Fallon. _You guys communicate like this a lot?_

_All the time, _replied Ryan, _especially at the precinct._

"So when I saw Rebecca," Fallon asked, switching back to physical conversation, "it was because you were projecting what Beckett was seeing into my mind?"

"More or less, but yeah," replied Ryan.

Castle watched the conversation between Ryan and Fallon with a growing sense of respect. "I'm impressed, Fallon," Castle commented, "you're accepting all of this better than I thought you would."

Fallon's mind immediately seemed to go elsewhere. "Yeah, well," he commented wistfully, "seeing someone you never thought you'd ever get to see again kinda changes your perspective on things..." Fallon allowed himself a moment to indulge in the memories he wanted to preserve for as long as he could before bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand...and the two people who had been *invited* to this little 'meeting'. He asked Lanie, "Dr. Parish, can I ask you a question?" When Lanie nodded, Fallon continued, "Since Dr. Perlmutter called himself the 'new guy' I'm assuming he's not a part of all this." Perlmutter nodded his head in agreement. "So, would I be wrong in guessing that you've been 'gifted' like Castle and the detectives?"

Lanie stared at her beer, averting her eyes from Fallon's inquiring gaze. "No," she told Fallon wistfully, "you wouldn't be *wrong*..."

The sadness and spiritual pain in Lanie's voice were obvious. Ryan reached out with peace to try and balance out his friend's emotions. "Lanie?" he asked, "What's going on?"

Lanie didn't answer Ryan's question; instead, she turned to Agent Fallon. "My...gift, if you could call it that, Agent Fallon, is the ability to psychically heal any illness or injury."

* * *

**Okay, if you've actually read to this point...thank you :). I'm thrilled that you like my work enough to even be patient with ramblings like this. And please, leave a comment and let me know what you liked, what you didn't...all that good stuff. Want an example? Read what the absolutely lovely phnxgrl writes in her reviews. Of *nearly every chapter I've ever written*. I don't deserve you. =) **


	10. Chapter 9

Fallon's eyes widened in surprise at the description of Lanie's gift. "So if you went to a hospital and visited one of the anthrax patients..."

Lanie answered Fallon's unspoken question. "I could cure them...but then how would I *explain* it?" She got up from the table and paced the room as she talked, finally ending up at the window. "I looked up the mortality rates for anthrax. If it's caught early and *treated*, you've got just better than a 50/50 shot. But if this is as untreatable as I keep hearing it is?"

Esposito got up to comfort his girlfriend, knowing how hard Lanie had taken it when she was unable to help only *two* people. Lanie drained the last of her beer, setting the bottle down on the windowsill with a weary, frustrated sigh. "Anyone who comes down with this type of anthrax probably has somewhere between a three and eight percent chance of surviving it." Esposito tightened his embrace and Lanie leaned back into it, drawing as much strength as she could just from his presence. "I've been given this 'gift' so I could heal people at times like these," Lanie exclaimed, "Make sure *no one* has to die from something like this. But if I do it..."

"If you do it you'll be shipped off to some lab somewhere just like I threatened to do to these guys back at the docks," Fallon stated simply.

Lanie nodded. "You see my dilemma."

"I do," Fallon responded simply. "I've experienced it in some way or form every day since I started this job." Lanie broke away from her boyfriend's embrace, curious about the point that Fallon was trying to make. She sat back down at the table as Fallon finished his beer and began, "Dr. Parish..."

"Please," she cut him off, "call me Lanie."

"Lanie...every day I go to work with the potential for thousands of lives to be at risk if I make a mistake...or even if I miss something. A lot of the time I have to do things that scare me. Most days I have to do things that I wouldn't even dare think of doing if I was in any other job. And I hate it. I hate every minute of it. But the worst feeling, the absolute worst feeling in the world was when I got the picture of that bomb from Beckett and I couldn't help her defuse it. And all I could think of was that thousands of people were going to die when *I* could have stopped it. So I go in every day and do what I have to do, whether it agrees with my conscience or not..."

Lanie understood Fallon's point well enough to complete the thought on her own. "For the greater good."

"For the greater good." When Fallon noticed out of the corner of his eye that Esposito looked like a rabid pit bull about to attack, the agent finished his point quickly. "Now, I will do everything possible to try to ensure that you won't be put in that position. And I have a feeling your friends feel the same way..." Satisfied to see that Esposito was backing down slightly, Fallon concluded, "But if, God forbid, it *does* come to that, I promise I will have your back the whole way and do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Lanie didn't need to read Fallon's mind to see the sincerity of the man in front of her. She reached over and squeezed the agent's hand to show that she understood. "Thank you," she told him.

"Don't thank me yet," Fallon countered, squeezing Lanie's hand in return, "we still have to figure out how to fix this."

An idea came to Castle as Fallon and Lanie were talking; he presented his idea to Lanie as her conversation with the agent was winding down. "Lanie, when we finished the battle against the dragons, do you have any idea how many zombies you had to heal?"

"With the blast? A thousand, maybe..." replied Lanie, unsure of an exact number.

Esposito, though, was very sure of something else. "Yeah, but you remember where we found her afterwards? Collapsed on the ground in a coma?"

"Wait a second," Fallon interrupted the argument, trying desperately to keep up. "Lanie, you ended up in a *coma*?!"

"If I don't know what I'm doing when I'm in a healing trance I can get lost in it, which puts me in a coma," Lanie reminded the group and informed Fallon. She quickly picked up on Castle's train of thought. "But if I go into this one *knowing* what I'm getting into..."

Ryan was starting to understand the idea, as well. "And if I help you..."

Castle finished the idea. "We could combine to handle, I don't know, maybe 4-5,000, you think?"

Esposito looked at his fellow Guardians like they had each grown a third head. "You can't *possibly* be serious about this?! Bad enough you guys are actually willing to risk *Lanie's* life over this, but all *three* of you?! Not a chance in..."

"But they *wouldn't* be risking their lives..." Perlmutter spoke up, surprising everyone in the room, including himself. When all eyes turned on him, Perlmutter explained his statement. "I'll monitor everyone during the attempt. If something goes wrong I'll be able to get them medical attention immediately."

"Still, that only takes care of *half* the estimated number of exposed," chimed in Beckett.

Fallon was momentarily distracted as an idea came to him. "Excuse me," he said as he stood up, "I have to make a phone call..."

As Fallon got up from the table, Esposito made his frustration clear to everyone. "Am I the only one here who thinks this is completely nuts?"

"What else are we going to do?" asked Lanie, trying to soothe her boyfriend's obvious level of worry.

"We could find the cure," Fallon announced to the group. When he knew he had everyone's attention, Fallon continued, "I was just on the phone with Richard Bernham. Two of the vials that were stolen contain a virus and its antivirus. Administered in proper succession, he said they are the only thing that can kill the anthrax bacteria."

Esposito was more than happy to work on any alternative to this crazy plan. "Sounds good to me, let's go..."

Fallon cut him off. "Not yet. If this Plan B is going to even be an option we all need to get at least a couple of hours of sleep...probably more in Castle's case. Take Dr. Parish home and get some rest. We'll meet up at the precinct this afternoon."

* * *

Javier opened the door to his girlfriend's apartment and closed it behind her. As they both headed to the living room, the concern on his face was obvious. "Lanie, why are you doing this?"

_He wants to talk about this *now*? _thought Lanie. "Baby, can't we talk about this after we've gotten some sleep?"

Javier shook his head. "You *got* a good night's sleep, unlike the rest of us, and I know I won't sleep until I get through to you. Lane, this is *insane*..."

"I know," she sighed. "You don't think I know that? Ryan's the only one who's been able to pull me out of one of these comas when I've run into problems. If something goes wrong when we're trying this..." she shuddered, not wanting to think about the implications of something going wrong.

"So *why*?" Esposito sounded...terrified. Genuinely, honestly terrified of what they were planning to do. "Help me understand this, Lanie. *Please.*"

The fear coursing through Javier's voice broke Lanie's heart. She took his hands into her own, staring down at the connection between them when she couldn't work up the courage to look him in the eye. "Down there, every day, I see a lot of the horrible things people do to each other. All of that death...this is my chance to fight that. Keep some people from showing up in my office before their time," she said with a nervous chuckle.

"What about *you*?" Javier countered, pulling her hands up to his lips to caress them with gentle kisses. "I don't care about saving *any* of those people if it means *you* end up in another hospital bed...or worse, on *Perlmutter's* table."

"You know that's not true, Javi," Lanie responded simply. "You care more about people than that. It's why you love your job so much. It's why I love *you* so much. I'm not going into this blind to the risks. I'm also not getting pulled into it by surprise, either. Look, I don't want to have to do this. But, I'm ready to do it if it's the *only* way to save those people's lives."

Javier pulled Lanie into a tight embrace, finally confessing his greatest fear. "I just don't want to lose you again..."

Lanie pushed herself out of their embrace just far enough to be able to look her boyfriend in the eye. She saw the fear in his eyes, felt the responding pull of her own deep fears, and knew what she needed to do. What she needed to say to put this problem to bed once and for all. "Then marry me."

Javier blinked and shook his head, convinced he hadn't heard her correctly. "I'm sorry...what?"

"Marry. Me. When this particular round of crazy is over, I think we *need* to get married...if only to make it *clear* to ourselves that neither of us are going anywhere anytime soon. I mean let's face it," she teased, "if we're going to be driving each other crazy for the next couple of centuries *anyway*, why not make it official?"

Javier studied the face of his beloved, unsure if her offer was serious or not. He caressed her cheek, the magic of that touch pulling double duty as he saw Lanie's proposal from *her* perspective. His heart sang as he basked in the confidence that came with knowing *she* loved *him* as much as *he* loved *her*. Realizing that she was still waiting for an answer, Javier matched Lanie smile for smile and tease for tease. "Well," he sighed, "when you put it that way, how could I *possibly* say no?"

* * *

**Hi gang! I know, short...but hopefully sweet and makes up for all the babbling? 0:-) Either way, would love to hear what you think! Leave comments below!**


	11. Chapter 10

At times like these, with so little time to sleep at such an odd hour, Javier often found that it wasn't the best choice to hit the sack. He knew his friends desperately needed the rest: Castle and Ryan, in particular, were probably both dead to the world even as he lay there. But Javier's mind was unfocused: a swirling, unstable pile of memories that was threatening to topple and give him a monster of a migraine.

Lanie got up, stretching her bare arms over her head, and Javier smiled, tracing a hand slowly down the beautiful curve of her spine. Lanie turned her head back towards her boyfriend, her relaxed, sated smile warming his heart. "Okay," she teased, "now are you gonna *finally* be able to get some sleep?"

Javier smiled back warmly, letting his hands roam over Lanie's shoulders, back, and arm; anywhere he could reach to get one last touch, one last sensual memory of the woman who was fighting to leave his bed...their bed. His smile widened a little more as he realized he could allow himself to finally think that way now. "Nah. Got too much on my mind right now."

Lanie's brow furrowed a little in concern. "Wanna talk about it?"

Javier shook his head. "Just gotta do some filing, is all."

Filing. Their 'code word' for the meditative process Javier had to do to keep his brain from exploding. Literally, in his case. Lanie could feel the fear and frustration start to bubble up to the surface of her own mind. _Does that man not think about taking care of himself at *all*? _"You haven't been keeping up?" she asked, trying to sound casual about the whole thing.

Javier knew his woman better than that. "No! No, chica," he soothed, "it's not like *that*. Something's bugging me about that warehouse. When I got in the place I had this crazy strong feeling of déjà vu."

"Like you've been there before?" asked Lanie. Her boyfriend nodded. "So you think someone you've already downloaded..."

"Might have had more to do with this than I thought they had at first read," replied Javier.

Lanie rolled back over and scooted across her side of the bed so that her lips could easily meet up with Javier's for one last gentle kiss. "Gotcha. I'm gonna take a shower. Want me to check on you in a couple of hours?"

Javier nodded. "Unless someone calls for me before that."

Lanie allowed herself one more quick kiss before using her man's strong, muscled chest to push herself back up to a seated position. "All right," she said as she stood, "good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Me too," agreed Javier as he settled himself in and closed his eyes. "Me too."

The familiar blinding white flash as Javier closed his eyes settled quickly into the white 'filing room' where he stored the memories he had collected. He slowly walked the aisles of evidence room-style shelving, chuckling as he thought...and not for the first time...that the large, square 'discs' of memories looked a little like they could have been Harry Potter's record collection. Javier set the thought aside quickly, refocusing on the task at hand. The Atwater case. _How could I possibly have been there before?_

Three piles of memories appeared on the shelf in front of him, representing the memories of the three people whose memories he had absorbed over the course of the investigation. Javier started with the most recent set. _Derek Rhodes. _He flipped through the memories like a picture book, taking his time with the past year and working quickly through about a decade's worth of memories. No luck. Most of Rhodes' business was transacted over the Internet.

Javier moved on to the next pile of memories. It was hard not to linger here, curious as he was about the roller-coaster life and poignantly tragic marriage of the Homeland Security agent. But while flipping through the man's memories showed a life lived on the edge of danger around the world, Fallon had *not* been at that warehouse before the raid.

That left...Douglas Atwater. The first victim's father. He didn't want to flip through these memories, knowing the deep grief he believed he would find there. Javier had made himself a promise when he first gained control over his gift: he treated the memories of victim's parents with kid gloves, keeping the times he downloaded such memories to an absolute minimum. Most of the time he would *only* download such memories when he had a justifiable reason to suspect the parents might have had a hand in their child's death, such as a suspicion of child abuse. Dr. Atwater had been a rare exception. Taking a deep 'breath' to sharpen his focus, Javier started flipping through the microbiologist's memories.

The sights Javier saw shocked him to the core. The warehouse was in Douglas Atwater's memories. Many, many times.

Javier's eyes flew open as he snapped out of the trance. As he stood up, his muscles protested at the combination of exhaustion, followed by exercise (wonderful though the exercise was), followed by not nearly enough rest. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind, knowing that the information he had just 'remembered' was far too important to be put off for any reason. The sound of the running shower told Javier that he couldn't have been out for more than ten minutes. He pushed himself to the living room where Lanie had, thoughtfully, put his phone on a charger. He picked up the phone and dialed the only person he was sure he would be able to reach at the precinct. "Captain? It's Esposito. Is Agent Fallon there?" The detective waited while his boss turned over the phone. "Fallon? We need to get a current location and any information you can scare up on a Dr. Douglas Atwater...That's right, the victim's father. He's been working with Medin al shems."

* * *

Captain Gates watched as Fallon quickly took down some information on a piece of scrap paper and end his conversation with Esposito. "What is it?" asked Gates as Fallon hung up the phone.

Fallon tore the paper off the notepad as he replied, "The victim's father was working with the terrorists, apparently..."

Gates' eyes widened as she realized what this information meant to their investigation. "Agent Fallon," she asked, trying to keep her cool as the agent was heading to her door, "may I speak to you for a moment? In private?"

Agent Fallon opened his mouth to protest, then closed it when he turned around and saw the expression on Gates' face. A picture of a mama grizzly bear standing on her hind legs, fiercely protecting her cubs, flashed through his mind. Fallon backed up against the door to push it closed. "What can I do for you, captain?" he asked.

Gates thought through her choice of words carefully as she spoke. "I'm getting the impression you've had a...very interesting morning, Agent Fallon?"

Fallon caught on to the implied statement in Gates' question immediately. "So you know?"

Gates nodded. "As do you, unless I miss my guess."

"No, you're right...they told me the whole story shortly after you called with the news about Central Park. How could you tell?" asked Fallon.

"There was no way that you could have blindly accepted that kind of information from Detective Esposito without having some understanding of where he gets it from," Gates told him. She walked around her desk until she was close enough to Agent Fallon that she had to look up to stare the man down. "Am I going to have a problem with your organization in the future, Agent Fallon?"

The meaning of Gates' question was obvious to Fallon, and he shook his head in reply. "Absolutely not, captain. I owe a debt to them that I will *never* be able to repay. My superiors will never hear about them from me, I can promise you that."

Gates saw the rock-solid conviction behind Fallon's words and nodded, effectively ending their conversation. Fallon turned on his heels and left the captain's office to work on tracking down Douglas Atwater.

* * *

Fallon walked quickly to intercept the four Guardians as they left the elevator. "Detective Esposito!" he called out as he got to them, knowing that would get the group's attention.

It worked. The group stopped as Fallon caught up with them. "Whad'ya got?" asked Esposito.

"You were right," replied Fallon. "Dr. Douglas Atwater got a payment of $50 million dollars wired from a Swiss bank account to an account in the Cayman Islands last week. He's our guy."

Beckett, Castle and Ryan all turned to Esposito in shock. Beckett was the first to figure out how to speak again. "How in the world did you figure *this* out?" she asked him.

Esposito looked to Fallon to see if he wanted to provide any more information, but the agent simply threw up his hands in surrender. "Hey, it's *your* lead. Start talking."

"Okay...when we finally got to a point in the warehouse when people weren't shooting at us," explained Esposito, "I had a major moment of déjà vu."

"Like you had been to the warehouse before?" asked Ryan.

Esposito nodded. "Yeah, but I hadn't. So that meant that someone else in my head *had*. When Fallon sent us all home to get some shuteye, I went back over the memories I got during this case, and figured out that Atwater had been working at that warehouse every day until he moved to Florida and checked in once a week after that. He had only *just* gotten back from New York when his kid died."

"Why did Atwater want to attack New York City?" asked Castle.

"To leave a legacy behind, as twisted as *that* sounds," replied Esposito. "When Bernham forced him into retirement in the middle of the anthrax project he pushed Thomas to take the partnership deal. *Hard.* When Thomas turned the deal down he knew his work on the anthrax spores would just end up being some footnote in a DoD file somewhere. If his legacy couldn't continue at the lab then he wanted his name and the disease he created in the history books."

"And when 2/3rds of his plan failed..." Ryan began.

Where Ryan might have thought they would have gotten speculation, instead Fallon handed him a computer printout. "Atwater filed a flight plan to flee the country and fly to Yemen. His private jet is leaving Republic Airport in an hour. Castle, I was hoping..."

The five of them disappeared before Fallon had a chance to finish the request.

* * *

The group materialized just behind the hangar of a charter flight company of a charter flight company at the small airport. "You're lucky I know this airport well," Castle informed the group, "I knew just where to drop us."

The three detectives simply rolled their eyes while Fallon ignored Castle's smirking and got down to business. "Beckett, what's in the area? Anything we've got to worry about?"

Beckett stretched out her hearing until almost to the nearby road, tuning out the noises of the nearby office building to focus on anything that her instincts told her meant danger. "Hangar to our southwest...private jet guarded by half a dozen guards armed with what sounds like AKs...a car pulling in..." She turned around to watch the black car service vehicle unload its passenger at the door to the hangar. "It's Atwater."

Fallon pulled out his service weapon, switching off the safely. He frowned in confusion when the three detectives didn't do the same. "Where are your weapons, detectives?"

Ryan shrugged off the agent's concern. "Don't really need it."

When the other two detectives nodded in agreement, Fallon couldn't help but shake his head in amazement. It wasn't hard to feel like David against Goliath when he looked at their weaponry versus what they were soon to be facing. The Biblical warrior, though, didn't have the advantages Fallon knew *they* had. "Castle, shields up?" When the wizard nodded, Fallon continued, "Okay, the objective here is simple: capture Atwater and secure the cure vials. I don't care what else happens so long as we meet those two goals, because if that plane gets off the ground with Atwater in it things are going to get a whole lot more complicated. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir," the four Guardians replied.

"Good," Fallon concluded, pushing a round into the chamber of his weapon. Shaking his head again at the fact that *he* was the only one carrying a gun-and by *choice*, no less-Fallon lifted his arm, giving the group the silent command to proceed.

Clearly the four Guardians had been holding back at the anthrax lab. Castle disappeared almost simultaneously after getting the attack order, reappearing just off the entrance to the hangar and primed to help his friends if needed.

The three detectives took off at a sprint that would have made Olympians green with envy. Fallon followed as best he could with his weapon drawn, looking to provide cover fire should any of the cops require it.

The Homeland Security Agent soon decided not to bother with such hindrances as taking cover. Ryan and Esposito had taken out all six guards before they could fire a single shot, and Beckett was in the process of reading his rights to a stunned Douglas Atwater when Fallon arrived on the scene. The agent quickly shook off his amazement at the talents of the group around him, focusing instead on the one job left to do. "Where's the vials, Atwater?" Fallon demanded angrily.

Douglas Atwater tried to bluff his way out of the situation. "What vials? I have no idea what you're talking abou..."

Fallon cut him off, angrily grabbing the older man by the lapels. "I won't ask again," he growled, "Where. Are. The vials?!"

Douglas Atwater composed himself as best he could with a furious Homeland Security agent literally breathing down his neck. "I know my rights," Atwater choked out, "I'm not saying anything else without a lawyer."

Fallon dropped Atwater and stepped back from the old man with a smile. "You don't have to. I'm pretty sure we already got what we needed. RYAN?!"

"Already on it," Ryan yelled back from inside the jet. The detective soon emerged from the plane with a small metal briefcase in his hands.

"Get that to Castle right away," Fallon ordered Ryan. "Tell him to bring it to Lanie and that she should call Bernham Atwater with instructions for them to call me ASAP." Ryan nodded and ran out of the hangar. Stepping further away from their suspect, Fallon pulled out his cell phone as he instructed the other two detectives, "Tie up the guards and make sure our friend here doesn't get away. I'll call Suffolk County PD and see if I can scare us up an escorted ride back to Manhattan."

As Fallon watched Esposito jog around to zip-tie the guards and Beckett 'casually' stand guard over their suspect, the agent finally allowed himself a small moment of awe at what he had just seen accomplished. A raid that should have taken a SWAT team and could have easily resulted in the loss of more than a few lives was completed by three detectives and a writer, without a handgun between them, in a matter of *minutes*.

He was *sure* he was going to miss these guys. A *lot*.

* * *

**Only one more chapter to go! Don't forget to feed (leave comments for) the writer!**


	12. Chapter 11

Javier Esposito paced the length of the loft, trying not to let the nervous knot in his stomach get any bigger. The case, as far as the NYPD and Homeland Security were concerned, was closed. The spores were safely ensconced in some top secret government facility somewhere. Anyone who didn't know any better would have thought that the members of their 'team' deserved to kick back, relax, go out for a cold beer and sleep for days.

But Esposito knew better. _Now comes the hard part, _he thought.

Lanie, Ryan and Castle were sitting on the floor, letting Perlmutter and Alexis hook each of them up to both an EKG and an EEG. The mass of wires and machines was daunting to look at, let alone to be hooked up to it. "I'm starting to feel like a refrigerator covered in magnets," grumbled Lanie.

Castle grabbed Lanie's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's for a good cause. Try to remember that."

"Yeah, like I can *forget*," Lanie griped. The news was running non-stop coverage of the attack: covering every hospital and clinic and talking about infection rates and antibiotic shortages. And *that* was based on the assumption that the attack was regular anthrax spores. Thankfully no one had leaked the truth yet...

A knock on the door startled everyone. All activity in the room ceased as six of the seven people in the room wondered who was on the other side of the door. One of them, though, knew without opening the door who it was. "You know, you don't have to be here for this!" Ryan yelled to the door.

"I know," a familiar voice called back to them.

Esposito crossed to the door, working carefully to avoid any of the wires or machines. He opened the door to the newest member of their crazy team. "Come on in, Fallon."

Fallon entered the loft, immediately noticing the mass of wires and machines. "Hey," he greeted Esposito. The curiosity and concern in Fallon's voice was obvious. "How are they doing?"

"They haven't started yet," replied Esposito, moving away from the doorway to let the other man in.

Fallon moved through the loft, carefully avoiding the mass of cables and machines in the middle of the living room until he joined Esposito in the clean, uncluttered space of the kitchen. The detective handed him a beer, which he drank from gratefully. Fallon seemed to be almost as concerned for the safety of the three people in the center of the storm as Esposito did...a fact which the detective was finding perplexing. "I know why I'm so worried," Esposito commented, "but why are you?"

"They saved my life," Fallon replied simply, never taking his eyes off the living room.

Esposito put a hand on Fallon's shoulder, updating the agent's pile of memories in his mind, then squeezed the man's shoulder in sympathy when he realized that Fallon was, indeed, there for some of the same reasons that he was. "They'll be fine, Fallon. Stuff like this happens all the time."

Fallon couldn't help but crack a small, nervous smile. He knew the detective didn't believe a word he was saying, but the sheer attempt to make an effort was in itself encouraging.

Alexis joined the two men in the kitchen, her job as lab assistant now mostly done. Recognizing that there was a man in her kitchen that she had yet to meet, Alexis did the polite thing and stretched out her hand in greeting. "Alexis Castle."

"You're Castle's daughter?" Fallon took his eyes off the living room just long enough to greet the pretty redheaded coed. "Mark Fallon. Nice to finally meet you."

"Same here," agreed Alexis. "Dad's told me a lot about you. You're much...nicer in person."

Fallon shook his head, smiling broadly as he wondered just what kind of an impression he had been making in the past. "I've been hearing that a lot lately." He quickly changed the subject to the reason they were all there. "Is it always like this?"

"Not really," replied Alexis. "This was totally Dr. Perlmutter's idea. If he can track their brain activity over the course of a really big spell like this one, he *thinks* he can pinpoint spots where they can adjust things in the future so there are less after-effects."

"Like Lanie's comas?" asked Fallon. Alexis nodded.

Beckett joined the group in the kitchen as Perlmutter made the last-minute preparations. "I know why Lanie's a part of this, and I *think* I have a good idea why your dad's there, Alexis...but why does Detective Ryan need to be in on it?"

"From what I've been able to tell to this point," replied Alexis, "Kevin has the ability to be...I'm not sure how to put this...like magic coffee."

"Magic coffee?" Fallon raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "I don't follow."

Alexis explained, "Everyone's abilities work just fine on their own, but when they run into a challenge that can be potentially overwhelming, Kevin connects with their mind and gives it a boost...which can give them the power, concentration and focus to get whatever needs to get done, done." She turned to Esposito to make sure her explanation was accurate. "That sound right to you, Javier?"

"Sounds 'bout right to me, Lex," replied Esposito. "Although I may never let my partner live down the magic coffee idea..."

"I heard that!" exclaimed Ryan, his voice half warning, half teasing.

Perlmutter stopped everyone else's conversations when he moved to his computer outside of the main area. "Starbucks pranks are going to have to wait, gentlemen. I believe we're ready to begin."

All conversation in the room ceased, leaving no sound but the ambient noises of New York City just outside the windows. Castle, Lanie and Ryan all drew in a deep, strengthening breath and let it out slowly to steady themselves. "Ready?" Ryan asked the other two.

"As I'll ever be," replied Lanie. Castle simply nodded.

Beckett switched from watching the three people in the living room to watching their auras, at Alexis' request. "What do you see, Kate?" asked Alexis.

"Ryan's aura seems like part of it has dug into the ground, like it's pulling energy from the earth itself. The rest of it...the rest of it's kind of surrounding Castle and Lanie both..." Beckett squinted and blinked as her eyes switched back to 'normal' vision. "Sorry Alexis, I can't watch any more than that. It's way too bright for me."

Alexis nodded, watching the fascinating scene unfolding before her. Even she couldn't help but notice a 'shine' on the three people in the circle. Sparks started to fly around the trio as Castle focused on his spell and his desired results. Knowing how terrible his poetry had been in the past, the wizard chose instead to add a little Latin onto his most tried and true spell:

"Repair that we have damaged, return the world to its balance and shield us from those who might wish us to be harmed...Sanabit eos!"

A blast of energy exploded from the center of the circle, rippling through the apartment and out across the city. The group observing the blast staggered back from the impact with the wave but did not lose their footing. Their concern shifted quickly to their three friends, all of whom collapsed as the energy released. Perlmutter was hovering around them almost immediately, checking vital signs.

After what felt like the longest, most tense moments of the lives of every person in the room, Perlmutter stood up and announced with a smile. "Medically, they're completely fine. Just knocked out temporarily."

As if on cue, Ryan sat up, groaning loudly. "Is everyone ok?" he asked.

"You're the first one to come out of it," replied Perlmutter.

That brought Ryan to full alertness in a hurry. "Lanie..." He entered her mind almost instinctively, which brought them both back within a minute of each other.

Perlmutter knelt down to get closer to the three Guardians' level. "How are you feeling, Lanie?" asked Perlmutter.

"Peachy," drolled Lanie sarcastically. Her tone turned serious, though, as her body quickly regained its strength. "Did it work?"

"Besides probably getting rid of my ulcer?" shrugged Perlmutter with a smile. "We haven't checked yet. I was more worried about you guys."

Alexis found the remote and turned on the television. The non-stop coverage of the attack had flipped completely around to non-stop coverage of the 'Miracle at St. Vincent's'. "Wow," Alexis exclaimed, "everyone cured in one shot. Nice job, dad..."

The lack of a response from Castle disturbed almost everyone in the room. Alexis, Beckett and Fallon surrounded the wizard, Beckett anxiously holding her boyfriend's hand and caressing his face. "Castle? Rick, honey, wake up...Rick? Rick?"

Ryan, however, did the one thing no one would have possibly expected in this situation. He started laughing. Loudly. "Guys," Ryan informed them, "he woke up around the same time I did."

Beckett punched Castle in the arm as hard as she could. Castle rolled over, clutching his arm, unable to hold back his smile any longer. "Owww..." he pouted through his laughter, "Beckett, why'd you hit me so hard?"

"You scared me half to death!" countered Beckett angrily.

Castle sat up with Fallon's help, still a little shaky even with the extra 'rest'. "So it worked?" asked Castle.

"Like a charm," replied Fallon.

Beckett frowned as she asked, "Will that affect your case against Atwater?"

Fallon shook his head. "Nah. Finding the vials in his possession is enough on its own to put him away for a long time."

"So I guess your case is closed, then?" asked Castle.

"Guess so," Fallon agreed, pulling Castle up to a standing position.

Castle grabbed Fallon's hand, shaking it as best he could. "Take care of yourself, Fallon. It's been...interesting."

Fallon shook the wizard's hand in return. "That's an understatement." The agent pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it to Castle. "This is my office information. My personal information is on the back. If you guys need anything, anything at *all*, please don't hesitate to contact me."

Castle nodded, and Fallon made his way out of the loft, taking time to say goodbye to each person in the room in turn. Alexis walked the agent out of the loft, then turned back toward her father and his friends as the door closed. "Okay, *what* happened this morning?"

"What are you talking about, pumpkin?" Castle asked innocently.

"When you *finally* told me about everything that happened with that bomb after the little awards ceremony, you described Fallon like some sort of real-life Robocop. And not only was he a genuinely *nice guy* today, he practically declared himself to be at your beck and call. What happened between you guys?"

Castle slowly made his way over to the dining room table, sitting down to rest. "Alexis, I promise I'll tell you the whole story..."

Alexis heard the hesitancy in her father's voice. "But...?"

Esposito's eyes sparkled even as he fidgeted, trying to burn off some nervous energy. "But first," he interrupted the father-daughter conversation, "first I need to make sure something gets done *right*".

Lanie drew in a deep breath, having a strong suspicion that she knew what was coming. "I think I'm going to need to be *really* sitting down for this. Honey, can you help me into a chair before you start?"

Esposito couldn't help but smile. _Leave it to Lanie to be trying to orchestrate this even *now*... _He was at his woman's side in a heartbeat, helping her into the dining room chair opposite Castle...before getting down on one knee. The collective gasps he heard from both Alexis and Beckett told Esposito he was starting off on the right foot...so to speak. "Lanie," he began, "you are my best friend and the coolest woman I've ever met. And while you drive me absolutely crazy sometimes...I wouldn't have it any other way." He pulled a gold chain out from underneath his shirt, revealing the women's diamond ring attached to it. Unhooking the chain from around his neck, he pulled on it until the ring fell into his hand. Holding the chain in his left hand and the ring in his right, Esposito held his right hand out to the woman who already held his heart. "Lanie Parish, will you marry me?"

Even in her weakened state, Lanie knew what her answer was. She looked into his big brown eyes, smiled and held onto his right hand with both of her own. "Yes."

The room broke out into applause and loud cheers even as Esposito pulled Lanie into a celebratory kiss. One that ended far too quickly for Lanie's taste...she sighed, putting aside those thoughts to be acted on later, when they were *alone*. Instead, Lanie wrapped her arms around her fiancé's neck and whispered in his ear, "Baby, you couldn't have done that any better..."

"I love you so much, Lanie," Esposito whispered into her closest ear. Pulling her up into a standing position, it was only then that Esposito realized the ring was still in his hand and not on *her* finger. He slid the ring onto Lanie's left hand as he gave her another sweet, loving kiss.

Then Alexis nearly knocked her mentor over, tackling the woman into a giant bear hug. "Congratulations, Lanie! I'm so happy for you!" Other less physically enthusiastic forms of celebration soon followed as the loft was quickly cleaned up and transformed back into Beckett and Castle's home once again.

It wasn't long before, sitting around the dining room table, drinks in hand, the inevitable questions began. "So Lanie," asked Castle, "now that you guys have told us the story behind all *three* proposals...have you given any thought to *when* you'd like to get married?"

Lanie was about to protest that she should be allowed to enjoy her engagement, but Esposito, instead, shocked everyone in the room by answering for them. "Next June. Oh, and can we get married at your place in the Hamptons?"

Everyone stared at Esposito...most of all his new fiancée. "You *saw* our wedding, didn't you?" Lanie gasped out, completely surprised. "When did this happen?!"

Esposito, for his part, had the decency to blush. "The night we got back together at Castle's place," he admitted. "I didn't want to pressure you, so I kept that particular vision to myself. Lex finagled it out of me before we left the Hamptons, but I'm guessing she kept her word about keeping this top secret?" When Alexis nodded in confirmation, Esposito turned back to his fiancée. "Will you forgive me?"

Lanie leaned in and gave her man a gentle kiss to show that all was forgiven. "One thing's for damn sure," she teased, "at least now I know I won't be the one doing all the wedding planning by myself..."

* * *

Agent Mark Fallon shivered in the chilly night air, debating whether to take a cab the mile or so to Penn Station or walk. He stood next to the apartment building's front door for a minute, watching the 'huddled masses' of New York City pass him by. Fallon started thinking about where his life had been when he had come to New York; how he had become consumed by the job...obsessed with it. How he had let the job become his life because of the gaping hole that 9/11 had left in his heart. But now? Now that gaping hole was healed. As much as he adored his wife, he finally felt like he could move on with life. Finally felt like he could *have* a life again.

And, as if the universe were trying to drive the point home, he even had reason to believe in superheroes. It was hard not to feel like a kid.

Fallon settled on walking to the train. Clearly he needed time to think, and that was *much* easier to do in motion. But first, he realized, he had a phone call to make...

* * *

Homeland Security Director Diane McPherson leaned back in her chair, turning around to stare at her view of lights reflecting the brilliance of the Capitol Dome at night. The late nights shouldn't surprise her; decades of experience in law enforcement were long enough to realize that crime never took a holiday, or a vacation, or a night off. _Or even a nap, _she mused. What did surprise the director, however, was how much the late nights were *exhausting* her.

She was getting far too old for this. No wonder none of her predecessors lasted longer than four years on the job.

A phone call shook the director out of her morose musings. When she saw who was calling, she answered immediately. "Agent Fallon! Good to hear from you."

"Good...good evening, director." Fallon was clearly not expecting to hear a living being on the other end of the line. "I figured you would be long gone for the evening."

"One of the perils of the job, Agent Fallon, as you are well aware," Diane told him. "How can I help you?"

"I wanted to let you know that we have determined who killed Thomas Atwater and secured the anthrax spores."

Diane raised an eyebrow in impressed surprise. "That was quick work, Mr. Fallon. And the attack on Central Park?"

"The cure is being distributed to those who were exposed and we have a suspect in custody."

"Excellent! So the case truly is closed. Fantastic work. Your superior performance on this mission will be noted in your file."

Fallon was surprised and encouraged by his boss' high praise. "Thank you, ma'am."

"And the...other case? Were you able to get any information on the origins of those photographs?"

"No sir," Fallon lied, hopefully smoothly, "I didn't find anything."

Diane let out a long sigh, clearly expressing her frustration at the lack of...anything, really, related to those photographs. _It's like they weren't supposed to exist..._"Thank you for trying, Agent Fallon."

Fallon was starting to feel guilty about lying to his boss...but that guilt quickly subsided as he remembered his oath to Castle and his team, and what they had done for him. "I wish I could have done more, ma'am."

"I'm sure you did your best," the director complimented him. "Good night, Agent Fallon."

"Good night, ma'am."

* * *

The slow clapping of a single person's hands startled Fallon as he shut off his cell phone. "I am impressed," he heard a woman's voice state simply behind him. "Agent Mark Fallon. Although, deliberately lying to your boss is not a good way to keep your job."

Fallon drew his weapon immediately, turning around to try and locate the potential threat. A tiny, delicate, feminine figure approached him from a nearby alleyway, silhouetted in the darkness. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Put that useless weapon away," the woman replied as she approached with a walk that was slow, deliberate and seductive. Finally stepping into the light, the tiny woman shook out her brunette hair and smiled...a wide grin that revealed a startlingly inhuman set of fangs...

"My name is Ekaterina Petrovich, Agent Mark Fallon. And now that you have proven your loyalty to the Guardians, I require your assistance."

* * *

**Well, that's it! Another one is in the 'completed' column. :D Thanks to everyone who has left me comments on this series, but especially to my regular peeps phnxgrl, someguyshere, TheButterflyCurse996, and especially my personal Kenzi, TheTruthBetween (anyone who doesn't get the reference *really* needs to check out Lost Girl). You guys have all been the spark of motivation to keep me going at one point or another between chapters and I can't thank you enough for it.  
**

**Anyway, this series will continue with Resolutions, a Beckett-focused story that will focus on her ability to communicate with the dead. Regulars to this series will know that this means there will be a long-awaited scene somewhere in the next story. :D First chapter should be up by next Monday at the *very* latest. Don't forget to leave your comments below!  
**


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